UC-NRLF 


Hubert  Henry  Davies 


A  SINGLE  MAN 


A    COMEDY    IN  FOUR    ACTS 


Walter    H.    Baker   6    Co.   Boston 


&.  W.  ^metro's  Paps 

$titt,  50  €entjtf  <£ad) 


THE  AMAZONS    Farce  ^  T11166  Acts.    Seven  males,  five  females. 
Costumes,  modern ;  scenery,  not  difficult.    Plays 
a  full  evening. 

THE  CABINET  MINISTER  *:™**ZttZnZ2^° 

scenery,  three  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

DANDY  DICK    Farce  in  Three  Acts.    Seven  males,  four  females. 
Costumes,  modern  j  scenery,  two  interiors.    Plays 
two  hours  and  a  half. 

THF  fi  A  Y  LARD  OUFX    Comedy  ***  Four  Acts.    Four  males,  ten 

^^  ^  "  females.    Costumes,  modern ;  scenery, 

two  interiors  and  an  exterior.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

HIQ  HATTCP  IW  ADTIPD    Comedy  in  Four  Acts.   Nine  males,  four 

did  nvuac  in  ukuwi  females  Costume8)modem.  sceneryt 

three  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

THF  HORRY  HORSF    Comedy  in  Three  Acts.    Ten  males,  five 
~  females.  Costumes,  modern;  scenery  easy. 

Plays  two  hours  and  a  half. 

IRIS    ^)rama  ^  Five  Acts.    Seven  males,  seven  females.    Costumes, 
modern  ;  scenery,  three  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

LADY  ROUNTIFUL  Play  in  Four  Act8'  Eight  males»  seven  fe- 
L<  AVI  UXJViMlUJLt  m&les  Costumes,  modern ;  scenery,  four  in- 
teriors, not  easy.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

I  FTTY  r>rama  i*1  Four  Acts  and  an  Epilogue.  Ten  males,  five  fe- 
^  males.    Costumes,  modern ;  scenery  complicated    Plays  a 

full  evening* 


Sent  prepaid  on  receipt  of  price  by 

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No.  5  Hamilton  Place,  Boston,  Massachusetts 


. 


A  Single  Man 


BY  THE  SAME  A  UTHOR 
Uniform  with  this  Volume 


Mrs.  Gorringe's  Necklace 

Cousin  Kate 

The  Mollusc 

Captain  Drew  on  Leave 

Lady  Epping's  Lawsuit 


A  Single  Man 

A  New  and  Original  Comedy 
in  Four  Acts 


By 

HUBERT  HENRY  DAVIES 


All  rights  reserved  under  the  International  Copyright  Act. 
Performance  forbidden  and  right  of  representation  reserved. 
Application  for  the  right  of  performing  this  play  must  be  made 
to  the  author  or  his  agents. 


BOSTON 

WALTER  H.  BAKER  &  CO. 

LONDON 

WILLIAM  HEINEMANN 
1914 


A  Single  Man 


CHARACTERS 

(As  originally  produced,  November  <?,  igiO,  at 
The  Playhouse,  London.) 


Robin  Worthington 
Henry  Worthington 
Dickie  Cottrell 
Lady  Cottrell 
Maggie  Cottrell    . 
Miss  Heseltine 
Isabella  Worthington 
Louise  Parker 
Bertha  Sims     . 
The  Housekeeper    . 
The  Parlormaid 
The  Nurse 


.   Mr.  Cyril  Maude. 

Mr.  Ernest  Mainwaring. 

Mr.  Lyonel  Watts. 

Miss  Florence  Hay  don. 

Miss  Dulcie  Greatwich. 

Miss  Hilda  Trevelyan. 

Miss  Mary  Jerrold. 

.  Miss  Nancy  Price. 

Miss  Dorothy  Dayne. 

Miss  Emma  Chambers. 

Miss  Vera  Coburn. 

Miss  Diana  Sellick. 


The  action,  which  covers  a  period  of  three  weeks,  takes 
place  in  Robin  Worthington 's  house  near  Farnham  in 
Surrey. 

Acts  I,  III  and  IV.— The  study. 
Act  II. — The  drawing-room. 


Copyright,  19 14,  by  Hubert  Henry  Davies 

As  author  and  proprietor 


All  rights  reserved 


PLEASE  NOTICE 

The  stage-rights  in  this  play  are  strictly  reserved  by  the 
author,  to  whose  agents  applications  for  its  use  should  be  ad- 
dressed. Correspondence  on  this  subject  may  be  addressed  to 
Sanger  &  Jordan,  1428-32  Broadway,  New  York. 

Attention  is  called  to  the  penalties  provided  by  law  for  any 
infringments  of  his  rights,  as  follows  : 


"  Sec.  4966  : — Any  person  publicly  performing  or  representing  any 
dramatic  or  musical  composition  for  which  copyright  has  been  obtained, 
without  the  consent  of  the  proprietor  of  said  dramatic  or  musical  composi- 
tion, or  his  heirs  and  assigns,  shall  be  liable  for  damages  therefor,  such 
damages  in  all  cases  to  be  assessed  at  such  sum,  not  less  than  one  hundred 
dollars  for  the  first  and  fifty  dollars  for  every  subsequent  performance,  as 
to  the  court  shall  appear  to  be  just.  If  the  unlawful  performance  and  rep- 
resentation be  wilful  and  for  profit,  such  person  or  persons  shall  be  guilty 
of  a  misdemeanor,  and  upon  conviction  be  imprisoned  for  a  period  not 
exceeding  one  year."— U.  S.  Revised  Statutes,  Title  60,  Chap.  3. 


A  Single  Man 


THE  FIKST  ACT 

SCENE. — Robin  Worthington's  study.  A 
broad  French  window  affords  a  view  of  a 
large,  well-kept  garden.  It  is  towards  the  end 
of  the  month  of  May,  so  that  the  garden  looks 
at  its  freshest  and  brightest  with  flowering 
trees  in  bloom.  The  room  looks  comfortable 
and  much  used,  and  is  distinctly  a  man's 
room.  There  are  bookshelves  on  either  side 
of  the  window.  Almost  facing  the  audience 
is  Robin's  writing-table ;  a  good-sized  table, 
with  all  the  necessary  things  for  writing,  and 
littered  with  letters  and  pamphlets.  By  the 
writing-table  there  is  a  small  typewriter's 
desk.  It  has  drawers  down  one  side  and  a 
typewriter's  machine,  with  a  cover  on,  upon 
it.  Other  furniture  completes  the  scene.  Near 
a  settee  in  front  of  Robin's  writing-table 
there  is  a  cradle  on  rockers  containing  a 
baby.  Lying  near  the  cradle  on  the  floor,  as 
if  they  had  been  flung  there,  are  a  Teddy- 

7  ' 


8  A  SINGLE  MAN 

bear,  a  rag-doll,  and  a  rattle.  On  the  settee 
lies  a  small  case  of  needles  and  cottons  and  a 
baby's  bonnet  with  rosettes  and  ribbon  strings 
in  the  process  of  making. 
Isabella  WoRTHINGTON,  a  bright  attractive 
young  woman  of  almost  thirty,  is  on  her  knees 
beside  the  cradle. 

Isabella. 
[To  the  baby.]  Coochy,  coochy,  coochv ! 
[Putting  her  head  close  to  ilie  baby.]  Bo  !  [She 
picks  up  the  Teddy-bear  and  holds  it  up  for  the 
baby  to  look  at  as  she  makes  a  poor  imitation  of 
a  dog  barking  fiercely^  Wow,  wow,  wow  ! 
[She  throws  the  Teddy-bear  on  the  floor  and 
bends  solicitously  over  the  cradle.]  Did  muzzer 
fichen  baby?  Muzzer  didn't  mean  to  fichen 
baby.  [Captain  Henry  Worthington 
enters  from  the  garden.  Henry  is  a  cavalry 
officer,  a  good-looking,  pleasant  man  of  thirty- 
flve  with  conventional  mind  and  manners.  He 
wears  a  tweed  suit  and  is  smoking  a  pipe. 
He  strolls  down  to  the  cradle.]  Dada !  Here's 
dada !  Here's  baby's  dada.  [Looking  up  at 
Henry.]  Look  at  her,  Henry.  Doesn't  she 
look  sweet  ? 

Henry. 
[Smiling  at  the  baby.]     Hullo,   babs.     [He 
pokes  the  baby.]     Tseh  ! 


A  SINGLE  MAN  9 

Isabella. 
[In  an  ecstasy.']    Did  you  see  her  smile  ? 

Henry. 

[Giving  the  baby  a  series  of  little  pokes.] 
Tsch,  tsch,  tsch ! 

Isabella. 
Don't  do  it  any  more,  dear.     It  might  not 
agree  with  her.  {Rocks  the  cradle  gently. 

Henry. 
I  say,  Isabella. 

Isabella. 
[Brightly.]    What  is  it,  dearest  ? 

Henry. 
Do  you  think  you  ought  to  be  in  this  room  ? 

Isabella. 
Why  not  ? 

Henry. 
Eobin  may  not  like  to  have  his  study  turned 
into  a  nursery. 

Isabella. 
I  shouldn't  think  he'd  mind  when  it's  for 
baby. 

Henry. 
Look  at  the  floor. 


IO  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Isabella. 
Those    are    baby's    playthings.     She  threw 
them  all  there  herself.    [Gushingly  to  the  baby.] 
Clever  little  girlie ! 

Henry. 
Kobin  will  be  coming  in  directly  and  want 
to  begin  his  morning's  work.     I   think  we'd 
better  clear  out. 

Isabella. 
Very  well,  dear — we  will — [as  she  sits  on  the 
settee]  by  and  by. 

Henry. 
It's  ten  o'clock. 

Isabella. 
A  literary  man  has  no  fixed  hour  for  begin- 
ning work.     He  waits  till  the  spirit  moves  him. 
It's  not  as  if  Kobin  had  to  turn  out  on  parade, 
punctual  to  the  minute,  like  you. 

[Takes  up  her  needle  and  cotton  from 
the  seat  beside  her  and  begins  to  stitch 
the  rosettes  and  strings  on  the  bonnet. 

Henry. 
No — but  still — we  must  take  care  not  to  be 
in  his  way.     It's  very  kind  of  him  to  have  us 
here.    I  don't  want  him  to  think  we  are  making 
too  free  with  his  house. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  II 

Isabella. 
I  think  it  is  so  sweet  of  you,  Henry,  the  way 
you  never  forget  that  you  are   the  yoimger 
brother. 

Henry. 
[Smiling.]     I  learnt  my  place  at  school  when 
Robin    was    Worthington    Major  and   I  was 
Worthington  Minor. 

Isabella. 
[Sewing  as  she  talks.']  I  should  think  our 
happy  little  family  of  three  makes  a  very  bright 
spot  in  his  dull,  gray  bachelor  life.  The  other 
day — which  day  would  it  be  ?  How  long  have 
we  been  staying  with  Robin  ? 

Henry. 
[  Without  looking  up  from  a  newspaper  he  has 
picked  up.]     Four  days. 

Isabella. 
Yes.  Then  it  was  the  day  before  yesterday 
— I  was  sitting  here  with  baby,  and  I  could  see 
Robin,  sitting  at  his  desk,  watching  us.  He 
didn't  say  a  word — but  I  knew  so  well  what 
was  passing  in  his  mind.  He  was  thinking  it 
must  be  very  nice  to  have  a  young  wife  sitting 
in  his  study  while  he  works,  and  a  little  baby- 
waby — lovidovickins  ! 

[She  finishes  her  speech  with  her  head  in 
the  cradle. 


12  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Henry. 

[Turning  his  newspaper. .]     I  should   think 
Robin  will  always  remain  a  bachelor. 

Isabella. 
Don't  you  think  a  man  is  much  happier  for 
being  married  ? 

Henry. 

[Smiling  at  Isabella.]    Yes — if  he  finds 
the  right  woman. 

Isabella. 
[Smiling  at  Henry.]     Of  course. 

Henry. 
Perhaps  Robin  hasn't  had  my  luck,  or  per- 
haps he  has  been  too  busy  writing  books  to 
think  about  getting  married. 

Isabella. 
[Dropping  her  sewing,  and  saying  thought- 
fully.']    He  needs  the  idea  put  into  his  head. 
It's  what  you  and  I  ought  to  do  while  we  are  on 
this  visit. 

Henry. 
[Shaking  his  head.]     I  never  believe  in  tak- 
ing a  hand  in  other  people's  love  affairs. 

Isabella. 
What  do  you  think  of  Louise  Parker  ? 


A  SINGLE  MAN  1 3 

Henry. 

[Having  forgotten  who  she  is,  echoes, .]  Louise 
Parker ! 

Isabella. 
You  remember  her.     She  was  at  school  with 
me  and  she  was  to  have  been  one  of  our  brides- 
maids, only  she  had  influenza. 

Henry. 
Oh,  yes.    I  remember. 

Isabella. 
[Resuming  her  sewing^  Poor  Louise !  She 
must  be  nearly  thirty  and  she's  never  been  en- 
gaged. I  shouldn't  think  she's  ever  even  had 
a  proposal.  I'm  sure  she'd  have  told  me  if  she 
had.  I  thought  it  would  be  so  nice  for  her  if 
Kobin  fell  in  love  with  her. 

Henry. 

[Good-humouredly.]  I  don't  see  why  my  poor 
brother  should  take  up  with  an  old  girl  who 
can't  get  anybody  else. 

Isabella. 
Louise  isn't  old,  dear;  she's  my  age — and  she's 
very  handsome.  You've  seen  that  photograph 
I  have  of  her,  with  her  hair  done  out  at  the 
sides,  clutching  a  piece  of  white  tulle  in  front. 
She  looks  lovely — and  she  isn't  very  much  flat- 


14  A  SINGLE  MAN 

tered — not  if  she  is  as  handsome  as  she  used  to 
be — though  of  course  I've  seen  next  to  nothing 
of  her  since  we've  been  spending  our  winters  in 
Egypt. 

Henry. 
Ko — I  suppose  not. 

Isabella. 
Then  I  thought — having  a  little  money  of 
her  own  would  make  it  so  much  better. 

Henry. 
Robin  is  well  enough  off  now  not  to  think 
about  that. 

Isabella. 
It  would  make  Louise  more  independent. 

Henry. 
You  are  only  looking  at  it  from  Jver  point  of 
view. 

Isabella. 

[Her  hand  on  his.]     No,  dear,  I'm  not— but 

you  see — poor  Louise  is  the  only  one  of  the  old 

school  set  who  hasn't  been  able  to  find  a  husband. 

[Henry  lmig/is,  and  gives  Isabella  a 

little  caress. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  1 5 

Henry. 
I  don't  see  how  you  propose  to  bring  them 
together.     If  I  remember  rightly — Louise  lives 
at  Leamington  while  here  we  are  at  Farnham. 

Isabella. 
Louise    might    come    from   Leamington  to 
Farnham. 

Henry. 
True. 

Isabella. 
I  don't  see  why  she  shouldn't  be  asked  on  a 
little  visit. 

Henry. 
Where? 

Isabella. 
Here. 

Henry. 

To  this  house  ? 

Isabella. 
Yes ;  I  thought  if  Eobin  saw  Louise  in  his 
own  home  it  might  help  to  put  the  idea  into  his 
head. 

Henry. 
But  Louise  can't  come  on  a  visit  to  Kobin  ! 


1 6  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Isabella. 
Yes,  she  can — with  me  here.    Eobin's  sister- 
in-law  and  Louise's  oldest  friend.     It  would  be 
quite  all  right.     I'm  sure  Louise  wouldn't  mind. 

Henry. 
Kobin  might. 

Isabella. 
I  thought  I  could  say  to  Robin,  that  as  you 
and  I  have  no  fixed  home  in  England,  perhaps 
he  wouldn't  mind  if  I  invited  my  old  friend, 
Louise  Parker,  to  spend  a  few  days  with  me 
here.     I  don't  see  how  he  could  say  No  to  that. 

Henry. 
You  haven't  asked  him  yet  ? 

Isabella. 
No — but  I've  asked  Louise. 

Henry. 
You  haven't  1 

Isabella. 
Didn't  I  tell  you  ?  I  wrote  to  her  the  day 
before  yesterday.  I  told  her  to  put  off  every- 
thing, and  come  on  here  immediately.  I  gave 
her  the  most  glowing  account  of  Robin.  I 
should  feel  so  happy  if  I  were  the  means  of 
bringing  them  together. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  I? 

Henry. 
[Grctvely.~]     I  think  you  ought  to  have  spoken 
to  Robin  before  inviting  her. 

Isabella. 
[Penitently. 1     Yes,  dear,  I  see  that  now. 

Henry. 
He  may  not  want  her  here. 

Isabella. 
[Seriously.']     That's  my  difficulty.     I  don't 
know  what  I  shall  do  if  Robin  says  he  won't 
have  Louise  here. 


Henry. 


Put  her  off. 


Isabella. 
It's  too  late.  She's  in  the  train.  She'll  be 
here  in  three-quarters  of  an  hour.  Yes ;  I  re- 
ceived an  eight-page  letter  from  her  this  morn- 
ing. Of  course  when  I  told  her  to  come 
immediately,  I  never  expected  she'd  come  at 
once.  [Henry  smiles  in  spite  of  himself. 
Isabella,  seeing  Henry  smile,  c/ieers  up.] 
Dear  Louise !  She's  so  delighted  with  every- 
thing I  told  her  about  Robin.  She  seems  to 
look  upon  herself  as  engaged  to  him  already. 


1 8  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Henry. 

You'd  better  say  something  to  Robin  without 
delay. 

Isabella. 

Yes,  I  suppose  we  had. 

[She  kneels  and  rocks  the  cradle.  Robin 
Worthington  comes  in  from  the 
garden.  He  is  a  pleasant,  wise,  ret- 
icent and  sweet-tempered  man  of  forty- 
three  years  old. 

Robin. 
HuUo! 

Henry. 
Hullo,  Robin ! 

Robin. 

Don't  disturb  yourselves.     I  can't  do  any- 
thing until  my  secretary  comes. 

[Robin  turns  over  some  papers  on  his 
desk,  smiling  broadly  to  himself.  Isa- 
bella looks  at  Henry,  who  makes 
faces  at  her,  and  nods,  meaning  that 
she  must  tell  Robin  about  Louise. 

Isabella. 

[With  an  effort.]     I  have  a  great  friend — 
Louise  Parker  her  name  is [She  stops 


A   SINGLE  MAN  1 9 

short  when  she  looks  at  Robin  and  sees  him 
smilvng  broadly  to  himself ?.]  What  are  you 
smiling  at  ? 

Robin. 
[Diffidently.]     I  came  in  here  for  the  express 
purpose  of  asking  you  both  something — and 
now  I  don't  like  to. 

Henry. 
Go  on. 

Robin. 
You  won't  laugh  ? 

Henry. 
No. 

Isabella. 
Of  course  not. 

Robin. 

Well,  then [Looking  from  one  to  the 

otlier.~\  Do  you  think  I'm  too  old  to  get 
married  ? 

Isabella. 
No. 

Henry. 
No. 


20  A  SINGLE  MAN 

KOBIN. 

I  want  you  to  say  what  you  really  think. 

Henry. 
We  are  doing. 

Isabella. 
You  are  not  at  all  too  old  to  marry. 

Bobin. 
I  don't  mean — I  mean  a  girl. 

Henry. 
Of  course. 

Isabella. 
So  do  we. 

Kobin. 
I  don't  think  I've  any  time  to  waste.    I'm 
forty-three. 

Henry. 
I  thought  you  were  forty-four. 

Kobin. 
[Quite  annoyed.]     No,  I'm  not.     I'm  only 
forty-three. 

Isabella. 
[Complacently.]     Is    it    seeing  us  that  has 
made  you  want  so  much  to  get  married  ? 


A   SINGLE  MAN  21 

ROBIN. 

Partly — and  partly  it's  the  spring.  How  can 
I  keep  my  mind  off  marriage  when  all  the 
woods  and  fields  are  filled  with  family  life  ?  I 
get  the  same  unsettled  feeling  regularly  every 
year. 

Henry. 

/used  to  get  it  before  I  was  married. 

Eobin. 
All  the  bachelors  do  in  the  pairing  season. 
I've  no  doubt  my  case  is  a  good  deal  aggravated 
this  year  with  watching  you  two  and  the  baby. 
Do  you  know  before  you  arrived — I  rather  ex- 
pected your  domestic  happiness  might  irritate 
me,  but — [he  smiles  at  them  hotli]  I  find  it  ex- 
tremely attractive.     It  makes  me  quite  jealous. 

Isabella. 
{Beckoning  Henry  to  her  she  whispers  to 
him  while  Robin's  back  is  turned^     He's  abso- 
lutely ripe  for  Louise. 

Henry. 
[As  Eobin  turns  to  them.]     I've  often  won- 
dered how  it  is  you've  escaped  so  long.     You 
used  to  be  constantly  falling  in  love. 

Eobin. 
That  was  before  I  could  afford  to  marry.     I 
got  over  them  all.     One  can't  miss  for  long 


22  A   SINGLE  MAN 

something  one  never  had.  Since  the  days  that 
you  remember  I've  been  so  busy  getting  on  in 
the  world,  and  so  afraid  that  marriage  would 
interfere  with  my  work,  that  I  haven't  encour- 
aged myself  to  think  of  it.  But  now  that  I 
have  got  on — I  seem  to  have  come  to  a  kind  of 
full  stop.  Nothing  matters  as  much  as  it  did ; 
my  friends  don't ;  my  career  doesn't.  A  great 
many  bachelors  experience  the  same  sort  of 
feeling  round  about  forty.  It's  not  pleasant: 
it's  alarming.  I  ought  not  to  be  losing  my 
grip  on  life  yet — but  to  retain  it  I  need  a  new 
interest — an  interest  outside  myself.  I  need — 
[indicating  Isabella  who  is  gently  rocking  the 
cradle]  that's  what  I  need. 

[He  goes  up  to  the  window,  and  out  into 
the  garden  a  few  steps,  standing  with 
his  back  towards  Heney  and  Isa- 
bella. Heney  goes  to  Isabella 
and  sits  beside  her. 


Heney. 
Hadn't  you  better  tell  him  about  Louise  ? 

Isabella. 
If  I  tell  him  now — after  what  he's  been  say- 
ing— he'll  think  I've  asked  her  here  on  purpose 
for  him  to  fall  in  love  with — and  that  makes  a 
man  so  angry. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  23 

Henry. 
Pretend  you've  asked  her  here  because  Pm 
so  fond  of  her. 

Isabella. 
No,  Henry,  I  won't ! 

Henry. 

You  must  tell  him  she's  coming. 

Isabella. 
I  know  I  must. 

Henry. 
Shall /tell  him? 


No,  I'll  tell  him 


Isabella. 
Henry. 


Well,  tell  him. 

Isabella. 
I'm  going  to. 

[Enter  Gladys,  a  young  parlour-maid. 

Gladys. 
[Addressing    Robin.]     Miss    Cottrell    has 
called,  sir,  and  would  like  to  see  you. 

Eobin. 
Oh  !    Show  her  in  here,  please. 


24  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Gladys. 

Yes,  sir.  [SJie  goes  out. 

Isabella. 

[In  a  quick  whisper  to  Henry.]  How  an- 
noying: just  when  I  was  going  to  tell  him 
about  Louise ! 

Kobin. 

[Addressing  them  both.]  It's  Lady  Cottrell's 
little  girl — Maggie.  They  are  neighbours  of 
mine. 

[Maggie  Cottrell  enters.  Maggie  is 
a  very  pretty,  healthy,  smiling  girl  of 
seventeen,  full  of  vitality.  She  carries 
a  basket  of  grapes. 

Maggie. 
Good-morning ! 

Eobin. 

{Meeting  Maggie  and  shaking  hands  with 
her.]     Good-morning,  Maggie. 

Maggie. 

Mother  thought  you  might  like  these  few 
grapes.  [She  offers  the  grapes  to  Kobin. 

Kobin. 

[Taking  the  basket.']  That's  very  kind  of 
you.     [Lays  the  basket  on  his  writing-table.] 


A  SINGLE  MAN  2$ 

Please  thank  your  mother  very  much.  Let  me 
introduce  you  to  my  sister-in-law,  Mrs.  Worth- 
ington. 

Isabella. 
[Shaking  hands  with  Maggie.]     How  d'you 
do? 

Maggie. 
Quite  well,  thank  you. 

Eobin. 
[Introducing   Maggie    to   the  cradle.']     My 
niece — Miss  Pamela  Grace  Mary  Worthington 
— Miss  Maggie  Cottrell. 

Maggie. 

[Peering  at  the  baby.]     What  a  sweet  little 
kiddie ! 

[Pocks  the  cradle  violently  from  side  to 
side. 

Isabella. 
[Alarmed,]     Stop,  stop  !    Don't  do  that ! 

[She  snatches  the  baby  out  of  the  cradle. 

Maggie. 
I  thought  they  liked  it. 

Isabella. 
[Trying  to  be  pleasant  about  it.]     You  were 
doing  it  just  a  trifle — violently. 


26 

A 

SINGLE  MAN 

Maggie. 

I'm  so 

sorry! 

Isabella. 
It  doesn't  matter. 

Maggie. 
{Peering  at  the  baby.]     It  is  a  little  love. 

Kobin. 
"When  you've  done  adoring  the  baby,  this  is 
my  brother — Captain  "Worthington. 

[Heney  and  Maggie  shake  hands. 

Heney. 
How  do  you  do  ? 

Maggie. 
Quite    well,    thank   you.     [To  Isabella.] 
May  I  look  at  its  toes  ? 

Isabella. 
[Proudly  exhibiting  the  baby's  toesJ]     There  ! 

Maggie. 
Aren't  they  ducks  ? 

[She  touches  them  with  her  forefinger, 

EOBIN. 

[To  Heney,  smiling  as  he  watches  ISABELLA 
and  Maggie.]    Isn't  she  charming  ? 


A  SINGLE  MAN  2J 

Henry. 
Isabella  ? 

Robin. 

Maggie. 

[He   continues   smiling  benevolently  at 
Maggie  as  he  watches  her. 

Maggie. 
[To  Isabella.]    May  I  hold  it  ? 

Isabella. 
Certainly — if  you'd  like  to.  [She  gives  the  baby 
to  Maggie  to  hold.]     You'll  be  very  careful, 
won't  you  ? 

Maggie. 
Trust  me.     [Maggie  sits  smiling  at  the  baby. 
Robin  sits  watching  Maggie  and  smiling  all 
the  time.     Maggie  to  the  baby.]     Puss,  puss, 
puss ! 

Robin. 

[Murmuring     as     he     watches     Maggie.] 
Charming ! 

Maggie. 

[Looking  at  Robin.]     "What  d'you  say  ? 

Robin. 
[Slightly  confused.]     Nothing — I   was  only 
thinking — nothing.    [To  Isabella.]   Wouldn't 
she  make  rather  a  good  study  for  a  Madonna  ? 


28  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Isabella. 
Not  in  a  hat. 

Maggie. 
[To  make  conversation,  says  to  Isabella.] 
What  do  you  feed  it  on  ? 

[Kobin  and  Henry  glance  at  each  other, 
embarrassed. 

Isabella. 
Beef  and  potatoes. 

[Eobin  and  Henry  again  glance  at  each 
other,  then  look  away,  trying  not  to 
smile. 

Maggie. 
[Suddenly  thrusting  the  baby  from  her.~]     Oh ! 
It's  going  to  have  convulsions. 

Isabella. 
[Hurrying  to  Maggie,  snatches  the  baby  from 
her.  She  tries  to  be  polite,  but  is  visibly  annoyed.~\ 
It's  because  you  are  not  holding  her  prop- 
erly. Give  her  to  me,  please — thank  you.  [She 
carries  the  baby  towards  the  window,  jigging  it.~\ 
Did  she  say  we  were  going  to  have  convulsions  ? 
Tell  the  naughty  lady  it  was  because  she  didn't 
nurse  us  nicely. 

[A  nurse  appears  at  the  window  and  re- 
mains a  few  minutes  in  conversation 
with  Isabella.    She  carries  a  shawl. 


A   SINGLE  MAN  29 

Hen  by  joins  them.  After  a  few  mo- 
ments the  Nuese  takes  the  baby  from 
Isabella  and  disappears  into  the 
garden  with  it.  While  they  are  thus 
occupied,  Maggie  speaks  to  Robin. 

Maggie. 
I'm  not  much  of  a  hand  with  a  baby.    I 
think  I'd  better  be  getting  home. 

Robin. 
Don't  go  yet.     What  have  you  been  doing 
lately  ? 

Maggie. 
Playing  tennis  most  of  the  time  and  larking 
about  generally.     We  had  great  fun  last  evening 
— tobogganing  down  the  stairs  on  tea-trays. 

Robin. 

Who  was  with  you  ? 

Maggie. 
Dickie,  and  one  or  two  other  boys,  and  Flos- 
sie, and  Bertha  Sims.     We  call  ourselves  the 
gang.     {Holding  out  her  hand.]     Good-bye. 

Robin. 
[Taking  her  hand  and  retaining  it.]     Good- 
bye, Maggie. 


30  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Maggie. 
Shall  I  take  the  basket  back  with  me,  or  call 
again? 

Eobin. 
Call  again— soon. 

Maggie. 
I'll  come  back  for  it  in  about  twenty  minutes. 
[She    withdraws    her    hand  and  goes  towards 
Isabella.]     Good-bye,  Mrs.  Worthington. 

Isabella. 
Good-bye. 

Maggie. 
Good-bye. 

Henry. 
Good-bye,  Miss  Cottrell. 

Eobin. 
[Moving  to  open  the  door  for  her."]    When 
you  come  back — don't  ask  for  the  basket — ask 
for  me. 

Maggie. 

Eight ! 

[Maggie  goes  out;  Eobin  closes  the 
door  after  her,  then  turns  to  Henry 
and  Isabella. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  3 1 

KOBIN. 

That's  the  girl  I  was  telling  you  about. 

Isabella. 
[Puzzled.]     What  girl  ? 

Heney. 
I  don't  remember  you  telling  us  about  any 
girl. 

Kobin. 
I  was    beginning  to,    when — in  she  came. 
Wasn't  it  a  coincidence? 

Isabella. 
[After  a  look  at  Heney.]     You  are  not  tell- 
ing us  you  intend  to  marry  Miss  Cottrell  ? 

Kobiist. 
[Shyly. .]     I  thought  of  doing  so.     [Isabella 
and  Heney   look  at  each  other  in  surprise. 
Isabella's    surprise    amounts    to    dismay.'] 
Don't  you  like  her? 

Heney. 

She's  charming. 

Isabella. 
Yery  pretty — but  isn't  she  rather  too  young 
for  you  f 


32  A  SINGLE  MAN 

KoBIN. 
No ;  I  may  be  too  old  for  her,  but  she's  not 
at  all  too  young  for  me.  That's  what  I  want 
— youth  and  sunshine.  It  would  keep  me 
young.  {Taking  Henry  by  the  arm  and 
pointing  to  the  garden.]  Think  of  Maggie 
running  about  that  garden,  springing  over  the 
flower  beds  in  pursuit  of  butterflies.  [Drop- 
ping Henry's  arm  he  says  with  enthusiasm.'] 
The  very  vision  of  it  makes  me  feel  almost  a 
boy. 

Isabella. 
If  you  really  were  a  boy 

Bobin. 
[Interrupting  her.]     If  I  really  were  a  boy, 
I  should  see  nothing  so  wonderful  in  youth. 
One  needs  to  have  reached  my  age  to  realize  its 
charm. 

[Kobin  sits  at  his  table  and  begins  fuss- 
ing with  papers. 

Henry. 

[Impressed  with  Kobin's  last  remark,  says  to 
Isabella.]  There's  a  world  of  truth  in  that, 
Isabella. 

Isabella. 

[Much  more  impressed  by  her  own  idea,  says 
carelessly.]     Oh,  yes,  there  is.     [Gomg  nearer 


A  SINGLE  MAN  33 

to  Robin.]    But  though  you  look  so  boyish  for 
your  age 

ROBIN. 

A  man  is  as  old  as  he  looks. 

Isabella. 
Feels. 

Robin. 
You  don't  know  how  old  I  feel. 

Isabella. 
But  Henry  and  I  can't  help  being  a  little 
afraid — that  if  you  married  any  one  so  young 
as  Miss  Cottrell — you  might  miss  the  com- 
panionship we  hoped  you  would  find — in 
marriage  with  some  older  and  more  intellectual 
woman. 

Robin. 
I  don't  want  a  wife  with  ideas.     She'd  argue 
with  me. 

Henry. 
[Speaking  across  Robin   to  Isabella.]     I 
have  noticed,  Isabella,  that  clever  men  often 
choose  stupid  wives. 

Robin. 
{Indignantly  to  Henry.]     She's  not  stupid. 


34  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Isabella. 
[Bluntly.']     She  has  no  idea  what  to  do  with 
a  baby. 

Kobin. 

[A  little  shocked  and  embarrassed.]  My  dear 
Isabella — how  you  do  run  on !  I  don't  think 
we  ought  to  discuss  this  matter  so  prematurely. 
I  have  no  reason  to  suppose  that  Maggie  takes 
the  slightest  interest  in  me.  [He  smiles  as  he 
continues.]  At  least — I  hadn't — till  this  morn- 
ing. 


This  morning  ? 

Henry. 

Yes. 

Kobin. 

Isabella, 

Something  she  said  ? 

No. 

Eobin. 

What  then  ? 

Henry. 

Eobin. 
[Pointing  to  the  basket  of  grapes.]     Those 
grapes !    What  do  I  want  with  grapes  ?    I'm 


A  SINGLE  MAN  35 

not  ill.     It's  merely  an  excuse  of  Maggie's  to 
come  and  see  me.     I  feel  greatly  encouraged. 
[He  becomes  absorbed  in  the  papers  on 
Ms  desk. 

Isabella. 

Didn't  you  hear  her  say  it  was  her  mother 
who  sent  her  with  the  grapes  ? 

Robin. 

Maggie  is  quite  sharp  enough,  and  quite  in- 
dependent enough  to  send  the  grapes  by  the 
gardener  if  she  didn't  want  to  bring  them  her- 
self. 

Isabella. 

That  may  be,  but 

Robin. 

Suppose  we  drop  Maggie  and  the  grapes. 
I'm  rather  sorry  I  said  anything  about  either  of 
them.  I  don't  think  I  ought  to  have  done  so. 
[Beside  Isabella  and  very  pleasantly^  You 
were  beginning  to  tell  me  something  about 
somebody  when  I  first  came  in. 

[Henry  stands  watching  them  to  see  how 
Isabella  gets  on. 

Isabella. 
About  my  old  friend,  Louise  Parker. 


A  SINGLE  MAN 

EOBIN. 

Oh,  yes. 

Isabella. 

Such  a  nice  girl. 

Kobln. 

Keally ! 

Isabella. 

I'm  sure 

you'd  like  her. 

Kobin. 

I'm  sure 

I  should. 

Isabella. 
I  thought  perhaps  you  wouldn't  mind  if  I 
invited  her  to  come  and  see  me  here. 

Kobin. 
Of  course,  my  dear  Isabella — any  friends  of 
yours  would  be  most  welcome. 

Isabella. 
Thank  you.     Should  you  object  if  Louise 
stayed  a  few  days  ? 

Eobin. 
{Delighted^     The  very  thing  !     It  would  be 
an  excuse  to  invite  Maggie. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  yj 

Isabella. 
Oh! 

[She  looks  at  Heney  in  dismay.   Heney 
laughs  at  Isabella's  face  of  dismay. 

Eobin. 

[Goes  on  without  heeding  them  and  delighted 
with  his  own  idea.]  Why,  yes — don't  you 
see — if  you  have  a  girl  friend  staying  in  the 
house,  Maggie  might  be  running  backwards 
and  forwards  all  day  long.  She  has  nothing  to 
do.  When  do  you  want  Miss — Miss — your 
friend  to  come  ? 

Isabella. 
She's  coming  this  morning.     I  took  the  lib- 
erty of 

Eobin. 
[Interrupting  her.]  I'm  so  glad  you  did. 
Nothing  could  be  more  fortunate.  I'll  go  and 
tell  Mrs.  Higson  to  get  a  room  ready.  [He 
goes  towards  the  door.]  Maggie  might  come  to 
tea  this  afternoon.  [JTe  goes  out. 

Isabella. 

[As  soon  as  the  door  is  closed?]  Oh,  Henry, 
can't  you  do  something  ? 

Heney. 
Why  shouldn't  he  marry  Maggie  ? 


38  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Isabella. 
[Indignantly.']     Henry ! 

Henry. 
I've  known  several  cases  of  men  marrying 
girls  half  their  age  that  turned  out  very  well 
indeed. 

Isabella. 
But  what  am  I  to  say  to  Louise  ? 

Henry. 
Louise  hasn't  got  an  option  on  him. 

Isabella. 
Don't  make  jokes  about  it,  dear;  she'll  be 
here  in  less  than  half  an  hour. 

Henry. 
Louise  must  take  her  chance.    I  should  think 
when  we've  been  here  a  little  longer,  we  shall 
find  that  the  neighbourhood  bristles  with  women 
who  want  to  marry  Kobin. 

[Re-enter  Kobin. 

Kobin. 
I'm  sorry,  but  I  shall  have  to  ask  you  to 
leave  me  now.     Miss  Heseltine  is  coming. 

Isabella. 
[Suspiciously. ~]    Who's  Miss  Heseltine  ? 


A  SINGLE  MAN  39 

Eobin. 
My  secretary. 

[He  sits  at  the  writing-table  a?id  gets  a 
pen  and  paper. 

Isabella. 
Do  you  have  a  woman  secretary  ? 

[She  glances  at  Henry. 

EOBIN. 

Yes.  I've  been  taking  more  or  less  of  a 
holiday  since  you  came.  That's  how  it  is  you 
haven't  seen  her. 

Isabella. 
[After  another  significant  glance  at  Henry.] 
Is  she  pretty  ? 

Eobin. 
I  really  don't  know.     I  think  so.    I  see  her 
so  much  I  forget  what  she's  like. 

Isabella. 
That's  absurd ! 

EOBIN. 

It's  quite  true.  You  see — I'm  always  work- 
ing when  she's  here.  It's  like  thinking  aloud 
to  talk  to  Miss  Heseltine.  I  feel  just  as  com- 
fortable with  her  in  the  room  as  if  she  wasn't 
there.  [He  begins  to  write. 


40  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Henry. 
Come  along,  Isabella.    He  wants  to  get  to 
work. 

Isabella. 
[Joining  Henry.]    Very  well.    I  shall  have 
to  go  to  the  station  directly  to  meet  Louise. 

[They  go  out.  Robin  is  absorbed  in  Ms 
writing,  and  does  not  look  up  as  Miss 
Heseltine  enters. 
[Miter  Miss  Heseltine.  She  is  a 
sweet-faced  woman  of  twenty-eight, 
with  unobtrusive  manners  but  plenty 
of  character  and  determination.  She 
ts  neatly  and  very  plainly  dressed, 
and  carries  a  note-booh  in  her  hand. 
She  moves  about  in  a  quick,  business- 
like fashion. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Good-morning,  Mr.  Worthington. 

Robin. 
Good-morning,  Miss  Heseltine. 

[Miss  Heseltine  expresses  disapproval 
as  she  sees  the  Teddy-bear,  rag-doll, 
and  rattle  lying  on  the  floor. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Tseh,  tsch,  tsch ! 

[She  gathers  up  the  Teddy-bear,  rag-doll. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  4 1 

rattle,  work-box,  and  the  baby's  bonnet, 
pitches  them  all  into  the  cradle  /  drags 
it  to  the  corner.  She  then  seats  herself 
at  her  desk,  takes  the  cover  off  her  type- 
writer, and  gets  ttvo  sheets  of  paper 
from  the  drawer  of  the  desk, 

Robin. 
Where  did  we  leave  off  last  time  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
We  were  writing  that  article  on  fossils. 

Robin. 
I  don't  feel  at  all  like  fossils  to-day. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
{Putting  the  paper  m   the  machine^     We 
don't  need  to  send  it  in  before  Friday. 

Robin. 
I  have  an  idea  for  a  poem. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Some  more  of  those  topical  verses  ? 

Robin. 
No — just  an  ordinary  little  poem  about  love. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
{Taking  a  swift  surprised  look  at  Robin  be- 
fore she  speaks.]    Quite  a  new  departure. 


42  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Robin. 

Take  this  down. 

[He  jpaces  the  room,  thoughtfully,  before 
speaking.  He  then  begins  to  dictate, 
soulfully. 

Come  hither,  my  beloved, 

[Miss  Heseltine  makes  a  short,  sharp, 
businesslike  attack  on  the  keys  of  her 
machine.    Robin  continues  as  before. 

With  shining,  smiling  eyes, 

[Miss  Heseltine  repeats  the  attack. 
Robin  continues  as  before. 

And  soft  sweet  lips  — 

[Again  Miss  Heseltine  types.  Robin 
drops  the  far-away  voice  in  which  he 
has  dictated  the  poem. 

Robin. 
It's  no  good.  I  can't  concentrate  my  mind. 
It's  all  in  a  turmoil.  Tear  it  up,  please,  will 
you  ?  [He  stands  at  the  window,  looking  out 
into  the  garden  with  his  back  to  her.  Miss 
Heseltine  takes  the  sheet  of  paper  out  of  the 
machine,  moves  her  lips  as  she  reads  the  poem 
over    to    herself  with    an    affectionate   smile. 


A   SINGLE  MAN  43 

Robin's  attention  is  obviously  attracted  by 
something  he  sees  in  the  garden.  He  speaks 
without  turning  round.']     How  pretty ! 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Are  you  still  dictating  ? 

[She   hurriedly  folds   up   the   sheet  of 
paper  with  the  poem  on  it. 

Robin. 
No.  I  was  watching  the  housemaid  flirting 
with  the  postman.  There's  nothing  so  charm- 
ing to  see  as  a  pair  of  lovers.  [Miss  Hesel- 
tine smiles  to  herself  as  she  tucks  the  poem  into 
the  bosom  of  her  dress.  Robin  comes  towards 
his  desk,  idly  turnmg  over  a  s/ieet  or  two  of 
paper  to  cover  the  embarrassment  he  feels  in 
saying  the  following.]  It  may  surprise  you — 
what  I  am  going  to  ask  you  [Miss  Heseltine 
is  very  attentive],  but — I  want  to  get  married. 
[Miss  Heseltine  is  so  surprised  she  drops  her 
ruler  on  the  floor  with  a  clatter.  Robin  hurries 
to  pick  it  up  for  her.  She  rises,  picks  it  up,  and 
sits  again.]  The  girl  I  want  to  marry  is  some 
one  I've  known  very  well  for  a  long  time.  I've 
been  in  the  habit  of  seeing  her  constantly,  but 
hitherto — we  have  only  been  on  friendly  terms. 
[Miss  Heseltine  nods  her  head,  gravely.]  I'd 
like  to  get  on  to  sentimental  terms  with  her. 
[Miss    Heseltine  nods  her  head,  smiling.'] 


44  A  SINGLE  MAN 

It's  always  a  little  difficult  to  change  a  long- 
established  friendly  relationship  into  a  senti- 
mental one — not  difficult  exactly — but  it  needs 
careful  handling.     You  see  what  I  mean  ? 

Miss  Heselttne. 
[Dropping  her  eyes.']     I  think  I  do. 

Robin. 
I'm  afraid  I  may  make  the  transition  too 
abruptly — startle  her — perhaps  even  frighten 
her  away.     So  I  want  you  to  help  me  if  you 
will. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Looking  wp  at  him.]     How  ? 

Robin. 
Before  asking  her  the  definite  question  I 
should  so  like  to  find  out — if  possible — whether 
she  has  anything  more  than  a  friendly  feeling 
for  me. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Have  you  no  idea  ? 

Robin. 
None — at  least — very  little. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Perhaps  you  have  given  her  no  direct  sign  of 
the  change  in  your  feelings  towards  her. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  45 

KOBIJNT. 
No ;  I  haven't. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Then  I  don't  see  what  she  can  do. 

Eobin. 
You  think,  then,  that  she  may  be  in  love  with 
me  without  showing  it  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I'm  quite  sure  of  that. 

Kobin. 
She  may  want  to  but  be  afraid  to  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
That's  it. 

BOBIN. 

[Moving  about  restlessly.']  A  man  can  feel 
just  as  shy  about  breaking  the  ice  as  a  girl. 
It  would  be  dreadful  to  get  a  rebuff.  She 
might  laugh  in  my  face.  Girls  have  been 
known  to  be  very  unfeeling  towards  middle- 
aged  suitors.  They  think  it's  funny  to  lead 
them  on  till  they  get  a  proposal  and  give  a 
refusal — and  then  they  go  and  tell  their  friends 
about  it.  [He  picks  up  a  letter  and  folds  it 
nervously.]  I  don't  want  to  risk  anything  of 
that  sort — so  I  was  wondering  if  you'd  be  so 
kind  as  to  say  something  first. 


46  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Taken  aback.]     Me  speak  first?     [Turning 
away  from  him.]     Oh,  no — I  couldn't ! 

Kobin. 

[Coming  and  standing  close  to  her  shoulder.] 
I  only  mean — if  you  could  help  me  to  find  out 
in  some  way — what  kind  of  an  answer  I  should 
be  likely  to  get.  [He  pauses.]  It's  Maggie 
Cottrell.  [Miss  Heseltine  must  express,  un- 
seen by  Eobin,  the  grief  and  disappointment  she 
feels  in  learning  that  %t  is  Maggie  he  has  meant 
and  not  herself.]  You  know  Maggie  Cottrell  ? 
[Miss  Heseltine  bends  her  head.]  She's  a 
friend  of  yours  ?  [Miss  Heseltine  bends  her 
head  again.]     A  great  friend  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 

We  are  not  in  the  same  position,  of  course, 
but  she  has  always  been  kind  to  me  and  taken 
notice  of  me. 

Eobin. 
Has  she  ever  given  you  any  confidences  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Yes. 

KOBIN. 

[Shyly.]     Anything  about  me  ? 


A  SINGLE  MAN  47 

Miss  Heseltine. 
No. 

KOBIN. 

[  With  a  little  note  of  disappointment.]  Oh ! 
[Moving  away  as  he  says,  thoughtfully.]  That 
might  either  mean  that  she  takes  no  interest  in 
me  at  all,  or  that  it's  too  deep  for  words.  [To 
Miss  Heseltine  again.]  Are  you  sure  you 
wouldn't  mind  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  should  like  to  do  whatever  would  please  you, 
but — do  you  think  I'm  the  best  person  for  this  ? 

Kobin. 
You  are  the  only  person.  I  don't  know  any 
one  else  I  could  ask  such  a  thing  of.  I  never 
feel  shy  with  you.  I  was  telling  my  brother 
just  now — it's  like  thinking  aloud  to  talk  to 
you. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Quietly.]     I'm  glad  you  feel  that. 

EOBIN. 

[Not  noticing  Miss  Heseltine,  he  says  smil- 
ing to  himself]  Dear  Maggie — so  young  and 
so  pretty.  [Miss  Heseltine  rises.  lie  had 
almost  forgotten  her  presence  for  a  moment  in 
thinking  of  Maggie.  He  turns  to  her  smiling 
apologetically^     I  beg  your  pardon. 


48  A   SINGLE  MAN 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Forgive  me  for  what  I  am  going  to  ask  you. 
[She  goes  to  him  and  says,  very  gravely '.]     You 
are  quite,  quite  sure  that  this  would  be  for  your 
happiness  and  your  good  ? 

Robin. 
Yes.  I'm  quite  sure.  I've  thought  it  all  out. 
It's  so  dull  here,  and  I'm  becoming  such  an  old 
fogey.  If  Maggie  would  have  me  she'd  cheer 
me  up  as  nobody  else  could.  She'd  be  the  re- 
making of  me. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Quietly.']     I'll  do  what  you  want  me  to  do. 

Robin. 
It's  very  kind  of  you,  Miss  Heseltine.     You 
can  approach  the  subject   quite  lightly,  you 
know — almost  chaffingly. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Oh,  no,  I  couldn't  do  it  that  way.     If  I  do  it 
at  all — I  must  do  it  seriously. 

[The  front  door  hell  rings, 

Robin. 

Maggie  come  back  for  her  basket.     I'll  slip 

out  and  leave  her  with  you.     [He  goes  towards 

the  window^     If  you  want  an  excuse  for  me 

not  being  in  my  study  [seizing  the  basket  of 


A  SINGLE  MAN  49 

grapes]  I've  gone  into  the  pantry  to  put  these 
grapes  on  a  dish.     That'll  look  very  natural. 

[He  goes  out  hurriedly.  Re-enter  Mag- 
gie by  the  door. 

Maggie. 
[Coming  just  inside   the  room.]     Isn't  Mr. 
Worthington  here  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
He's  gone  to  get  your  basket. 

Maggie. 
Oh! 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Will  you  stay  and  talk  to  me? 

Maggie. 
Yes — with  pleasure. 

[She  sits  on  the  settee  watching  Miss 
Heseltine  and  waiting  for  her  to 
"begin  the  conversation.  Miss  Hesel- 
tine  slowly  approaches  Maggie  and 
then  sits  beside  Tier. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Have  you  ever  thought  of  marriage  ? 

Maggie. 
[Cheerfully.]     Oh,  yes — often  and  often. 


50  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Thought  what  it  means — to  leave  your  pres- 
ent life  behind  you  and  go  and  live  his  life  with 
him?    You'd  have  to  love  him  very  much  to 
do  that. 

Maggie. 
I  should  say  so. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Perhaps    you've     already     asked    yourself 
whether  there's  any  one  you'd  be  willing  to 

five    up    everything    for?     [Maggie    smiles 
nowingly  sideways  at  Miss  Heseltine.]    Do 
you  sometimes  ask  yourself  that  question  ? 

Maggie. 
Every  time  I  meet  a  nice-looking  man. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Then  you've  never  thought  of  any  man  seri- 
ously ? 

Maggie. 
Are  you  alluding  to  Mr.  Worthington  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Rather  taken  hack  and  embarrassed.]     Well, 
yes — I — did  mean 

Maggie. 
Did  he  ask  you  to — to  ? 


A  SINGLE  MAN  5 1 

Miss  Heseltine. 


Yes — to 


Sound  me. 
That's  it. 


Maggie. 
Miss  Heseltine. 


Maggie. 
{Pleased  and  surprised.'}     Well,  I  never ! 

Miss  Heseltine. 
You  may  think  it's  funny  for  me  to  sound 
you 

Maggie. 
I  didn't  think  of  that.    What  made  him  pitch 
on  you  f 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[  With  a  touch  of  pride.}  I  know  him  better 
than  any  one  else  does.  I'm  only  his  secretary 
of  course,  but  I've  been  working  for  him  for 
five  years  now,  and  what  with  dictating  to  me, 
and  talking  about  his  work  to  me,  and  saying 
his  thoughts  aloud  to  me 

Maggie. 
[  With  no  idea  of  giving  offense."]     He  has 
come  to  look  upon  you,  I  suppose,  as  part  of 
your  machine. 


52  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Meekly, .]    That's  it. 

Maggie. 
[Impulsively   seizing  Miss   Heseltine  by 
the  arm.]    Go  on — tell  me — what  else  did  he 
say  ?  [  Wriggling  towards  her. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
That's  all.    He  just  wanted  me  to  find  out  if 
there  was  any  hope  for  him. 

Maggie. 
[Whispering  loudly  in  Miss  Heseltine's 
ear.]    Tell  him  "  Yes." 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Have  you  made  up  your  mind  already  ? 

Maggie. 
Ages  ago.     Mother  and  I  have  frequently 
discussed  the  probabilities.    [Giggling.']    "Mrs. 
Worthington  " — just  think  of  it ! 

[She  laughs  and  kicks  out  her  feet  m 
front. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Looking  at  her  gravely.]     I  shouldn't  have 
thought  it  would  make  you  laugh. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  53 

Maggie. 
[Sweetly.']    Why  shouldn't  I  laugh  if  I'm 
happy? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  thought  when  you  heard  that  a  man  like 
Mr.  Worthington  wanted  to  make  you  his  dear 
wife — you'd  feel  more  like  going  on  your  knees. 

Maggie. 
[Impressed.]    Of  course  it  has  its  serious  side. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
That's  what  I  want  you  to  see — if  you  don't 
think  I'm  taking  a  liberty  in  saying  so.  I'm 
older  than  you,  and  I've  had  a  harder  life  than 
you.  There  were  many  things  at  my  home  to 
make  me  grow  up  sad  and  serious  minded :  it's 
all  been  bright  for  you.  You've  had  no  occa- 
sion yet  to  take  life  seriously — but  you  will 
have  when  you  marry.  You'll  find  him  diffi- 
cult to  understand  at  times — moody,  and  even 
a  little  irritable,  like  all  very  clever  people  are ; 
then  you  must  be  patient,  and  remember  that 
your  husband  is  a  great  man.  Some  days  he'll 
take  himself  off  to  the  clouds,  and  then,  if  you 
think  of  yourself  more  than  him,  you'll  be  say- 
ing, "  I  might  as  well  not  exist  for  all  the  notice 
he  takes  of  me."  Those  are  the  hardest  times — 
the  times  when  he  doesn't  seem  to  notice  your 


54  A  SINGLE  MAN 

existence.  But  if  you  take  a  kind  of  pride  in 
keeping  quiet  and  not  bothering  him,  and  not 
letting  other  peopie  bother  him — it'll  make  it 
easier  for  you.  It'll  all  be  quite  easy  if  you  love 
him  enough.  That's  what  it  needs — real  love — 
deep  love  [bending  forward  site  takes  her  hands], 
love  that  knows  how  to  wait  patiently.  Look 
after  him  well — won't  you  ?  [Her  voice  falters.] 
Excuse  me  preaching  you  such  a  sermon.  {Re- 
enter Robin,  with  the  empty  basket.  Miss  Hes- 
eltine goes  towards  him.]  I've  done  what  you 
wanted  me  to  [Robin  smiles],  and  now,  if  you 
don't  mind,  I'll  go  home.  I've  got  a  headache. 
[Exit  Miss  Heseltine  quickly. 

Robin. 
[Looking  after  Miss  Heseltine.]  I'm  so 
sorry,  Miss  Heseltine,  so  very  sorry !  [He  turns 
to  Maggie,  who  rose  when  he  entered.  They 
are  both  exceedingly  embarrassed  and  stand 
smiling  foolishly  at  each  other.  After  a  pause 
he  says.]     Well — Maggie. 

Maggie. 
[Looking  at  the  ground.]     Well — Robin. 

[Robin  looks  at  the  basket  in  his  hand, 
then  looks  about  him  for  a  place  to 
deposit  it,  makes  a  few  hesitating 
movements,  and  finally  puts  it  on 
the  writing-table  and  comes  towards 
Maggie. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  55 

ROBIN. 
[Very  nicely  and  gently, .]  You  are  very 
sweet.  [Maggie  puts  up  her  face  expecting  to 
be  hissed ;  he  kisses  her.]  Dear  Maggie,  I  am 
very  much  touched  that  you  care  for  me. 
[Maggie,  smiling,  sits  on  the  settee.  He  sits, 
taking  her  hand  and  lookmg  at  if]  What  dear 
little  hands !  [He  puts  his  arm  round  her  waist 
and  kisses  her  again.] 

[The  door  is  suddenly  thrown  open. 
Enter  Isabella,  followed  by  Louise 
Parker.  Isabella  comes  marching 
gaily  in,  dressed  in  her  out-door 
clothes.  Louise  is  tall,  graceful,  af- 
fected, beautifully  dressed  and  twenty- 
nine, 

Isabella. 
[Speaking    as    she   enters.]     Here's   Louise ! 
[She  stops  petrified,  as  she  sees  Robin  and  Mag- 
gie sitting  in  a  sentimental  attitude  on  the  set- 
tee.]    Oh ! 

[Robin  and  Maggie,  very  much  embar- 
rassed, jump  up  as  they  enter.  Louise 
comes  towards  Robin,  who  goes  towards 
her,  holding  out  his  hand. 

Robin. 
How  d'you  do,  Miss-  Miss 


56  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Louise. 
{Languidly  giving  him  her  hand.~\     Parker 
— Louise  Parker. 

Eobin. 
I  hope  you've  had  a  nice  journey  from — 
from 

Louise. 

Leamington. 

[There  is  a  pause  of  embarrassment. 
Eobin  looks  at  Maggie  and  goes  to 
her, 

Maggie. 
[  Whispering  to  Eobin.]     Hadn't  you  better 
tell  them  we  are  engaged  ? 

Eobin. 
Yes.    {Turning   to  Isabella  and  Louise 
who  look  towards  him  as  he  speaks.']     Miss  Cot- 
trell  has  just  consented  to  become  my  wife. 

{He  takes  Maggie's  hand.  Another  long 
pause  of  embarrassment.  ISABELLA 
and  Louise  look  at  each  other  in  con- 
sternation.   Eobin  looks  at  Maggie. 

Maggie. 
{Going  to  Isabella.]    I  know  without  you 
telling  me  that  you  congratulate  me.     Thank 
you  very  much !    {She  shakes  Isabella  warmly 


A  SINGLE  MAN  $7 

by  the  hand.  Isabella  does  not  respond.  She 
does  nothing  but  submit  to  have  her  hand 
shaken.  Maggie  then  turns  to  Louise  and 
shakes  her  warmly  by  the  hand.~\  Thank  you 
very  much.  [Louise  submits  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  Isabella.  Maggie  turns  to  Robin.] 
I'll  be  off  home  now  to  tell  the  family  the 
joyful  news. 

[She  takes  her  basket  from  the  table  and 
goes  to  the  window. 

Robin. 
I'll   come  with  you.     [To   Isabella   and 
Louise.]     You'll  excuse  me,  I'm  sure — under 
the  circumstances.     I  shall  be  back  to  lunch. 
Come  along,  Maggie. 

[Robin  and  Maggie  go  off.    Louise 
looks  after  them,  then  at  Isabella. 

Isabella. 
[In  great  distress.]     My  poor  Louise — what 
must  we  do  ? 

Louise. 
We  must  lay  our  heads  together,  dear,  and 
see  if  we  can't  wean  him  away  from  her. 

[She  unfastens  her  coat  as  the  curtain 
falls. 


THE  SECOND  ACT 

SCENE.— Kobin  WoRTHlNGTON's  drawing- 
room.  A  large  French  window  stands  wide 
open  and  all  the  windows  afford  a  view  of 
Robin's  garden  /  a  different  view  from  that 
seen  from  his  study  window.  The  fireplace 
is  banked  up  with  ferns  and  flowering  plants. 
There  are  plenty  of  comfortable  armchairs,  a 
cushion  seat  and  two  settees.  Against  the 
wall  a  cabinet.  Up  by  the  window  a  good- 
sized  oval  table  is  laid  with  a  white  cloth  and 
tea-things  for  eight  people.  Chairs  around 
this  table. 

Three  weeks  have  passed  by  since  the  first 
act.  It  is  half-past  four  on  an  afternoon  in 
June. 

Henry  and  Isabella  and  Louise  Parker 
are  in  the  room.  Henry  is  looking,  off  from 
the  window.  ISABELLA  is  seated  on  one  sofa 
and  Louise  on  the  other.  Henry  wears 
tennis  flannels,  and  ISABELLA  and  LOUISE 
are  charmingly  dressed  for  a  garden  party. 

Laughter  and  noise  are  heard  off  in  the  gar- 
den ;  the  loud  young  voices  of  MAGGIE  and 
Dickie  Cottrell  and  Bertha  Sims. 
The  voice  of  BERTHA  is  then  heard  above 
the  laughter. 

58 


A  SINGLE  MAN  59 

Bertha. 
[In  the  garden.]     Stop  it,  Dickie  !     Come  on, 
Mag!    Play! 

[The  laughter  and  noise  die  away. 

Henry. 
Robin's  engagement  really  has  rejuvenated 
him.  There  he  is,  running  about  the  tennis 
court  like  a  boy  of  fourteen,  picking  up  balls  for 
Maggie  in  the  most  gallant  way.  [To  Isa- 
bella.] There's  no  doubt  about  it — he's  tre- 
mendously in  love  with  her. 

Louise. 
[Languidly. ~\  He  has  only  been  engaged  to 
her  for  three  weeks  yet.  [Henry  looks  at 
Louise  with  marked  disapproval.  Isabella 
merely  looks  resigned  and  bored.  Louise  goes 
towards  the  window,  saying  graciously  to  Isa- 
bella as  she  passes  her.]  I'm  going  out  to 
talk  to  Lady  Cottrell.  [She  goes  out. 

Henry. 
[Indignantly.]     However  much  longer  does 
that  woman  intend  to  stay  ? 

Isabella. 
[designed.]     I  wish  I  knew. 


60  A   SINGLE  MAN 

Henry. 
It's   monstrous !    Lingering  on  week  after 
week,  uninvited — making  up  to  Kobin  in  this 
extraordinary  fashion. 

Isabella. 
Louise  has  not  improved  since  she  left  school. 

Henry. 
The  way  she  manoeuvres  to  get  him  alone, 
insists  upon  reading  everything  he  writes,  and 
is  always  trying  to  give  the  conversation  an 
intellectual  turn. 

Isabella. 
[Letting  herself  go  in  irritation  against 
Louise.]  Oh,  yes— and  the  way  she  keeps 
coming  down-stairs  in  one  elaborate  gown  after 
another,  gliding  about  so  gracefully — and  he 
takes  no  notice  of  her. 

Henry. 
A  good  thing  for  us  that  he  doesn't  see  what 
she's  up  to — since  she's  our  friend. 

Isabella. 
[Meekly.]     Mine,  dear. 

Henry. 
[Stamping  about.]     What  is  her  object  in  it 
all?    Does  she  think  she'll  get  Kobin  away 
from  Maggie  ? 


A  SINGLE  MAN  6l 

Isabella. 
That  was  what  she  said  she  meant  to  do 
when  she  first  came.  But,  as  you  know,  dear, 
I  soon  let  her  see  I  couldn't  countenance  any- 
thing of  that  sort.  It's  one  thing  to  try  and 
make  a  match,  but  it's  quite  another  thing  to 
try  and  break  off  an  engagement. 

Henry. 
Doesn't  she  see  that  ? 

Isabella. 
When  a  woman  doesn't  wish  to  see  a  thing 
she  has  very  little  difficulty  in  persuading  her- 
self that  it  is  not  so.  I  can  quite  understand 
that  it  was  very  disappointing  for  Louise  to 
come  all  the  way  from  Leamington  for  noth- 
ing— but  it  wasn't  my  fault  that  Kobin  got 
engaged  just  before  she  arrived. 

Henry. 
He  probably  wouldn't  have  taken  any  notice 
of  her  anyway. 

Isabella. 
That's  what  I  told  her  to  try  and  console 
her. 

Henry. 

What  troubles  me  most  is  that  it  looks  so  bad 
for  you  for  her  to  be  staying  here  so  long  and 


62  A  SINGLE  MAN 

behaving  in  this  way.     It  looks  as  though  you 
encouraged  her. 

Isabella. 
I  know.     It  presents  me  as  a  most  repulsive 
character.     But  what  can  I  do?    She  simply 
won't  go. 

Henry. 
You've  given  her  some  good  strong  hints, 
haven't  you  ? 

Isabella. 
Dozens ! 

Henry. 
What  does  she  say  ? 

Isabella. 
She  doesn't  say  anything.     She  just  stays. 
It  looks  as  if  she  meant  to  stay  forever. 

Henry. 
I'm  afraid  you'll  have  to  be  rude  to  her. 

Isabella. 
I've  been  ruder  to  her  already  than  I  ever 
was  to  any  one  in  my  life. 

Henry. 
I  don't  see  how  any  one  else  can  say  any- 
thing to  her.     You  invited  her. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  63 

Isabella. 

[Troubled.]  Don't  reproach  me,  darling. 
You  don't  know  how  I  regret  writing  that 
letter. 

Henry. 

[Going  towards  her  to  comfort  her.]  I'm  not 
reproaching  you,  dear. 

Isabella. 

I  can't  help  feeling  you  are  displeased  with 
me.  [She  begins  to  cry. 

Henry. 
No,  dear. 

Isabella. 

I'm  afraid  you  are — but  you  know,  Henry — 
[she  swallows  her  tears  and  looks  up  at  Henry] 
I  do  love  you  and  baby.     [They  embrace.'] 

[Enter  Louise  and  Lady  Cottrell. 
Lady  Cottrell  is  a  strong,  alert, 
opinionative  woman  of  fifty ;  her 
clothes  are  loose  and  comfortable  with- 
out being  eccentric. 

Louise. 

Lady  Cottrell  and  I  have  come  in  to  see  if 
tea  is  ready. 


64  A   SINGLE  MAN 

Henry. 
I  suppose  we  must  wait  for  Robin. 

Lady  Cotteell. 
Not  at  all.  Ring  the  bell.  [She  sits  on  the 
sofa.  Isabella  obediently  rings  the  bell.]  He's 
forgotten  all  about  us.  He  thinks  only  of 
Maggie.  [Addressing  Isabella.]  Have  you 
heard  ?  We  are  going  to  have  the  wedding 
quite  soon. 

Isabella. 
[Interested.]     Oh — no — I  hadn't  heard. 

Henry. 
Nor  had  I.    When  is  it  to  be  ? 

Lady  Cottrell. 
In  six  weeks. 

[Louise  places  her  hand  to  her  heart. 
Lady  Cottrell  stares  at  her  with- 
out betraying  emotion  of  any  hind. 
Henry  and  Isabella  exchange 
glances.  Louise  totters  towards  Isa- 
bella. 

Louise. 
[To  Isabella.]    Have  you  got  your  vinai- 
grette about  you  ? 


A  SINGLE  MAN  65 

Isabella. 
[Irritably  detaching  a  vinaigrette  from  the 
long  chain  which  she  wears  round  her  neck.'] 
There ! 

Louise. 
Thank  you,  dear.    [She  sniffs  the  vinaigrette  as 
Isabella  glances  at  her  with  the  utmost  dis- 
approval.   Louise  smiles  wanly  at  Lady  Cot- 
teell.]     I  felt  a  little  faint. 

Lady  Cotteell. 

Your  dress  is  too  tight.  [Heney  giggles. 
Louise  glances  haughtily  at  Lady  Cotteell, 
turns  from  her  as  If  not  deigning  to  reply,  as 
she  sniffs  the  vinaigrette,  and  sits  down.  Lady 
Cotteell  addresses  Isabella.]  That's  the 
cause  of  nearly  all  the  fainting — tight-lacing. 
[She  pulls  her  dress  away  from  her  ^n  front  to 
show  that  she  is  not  tightly  laced.']  I  don't 
faint!     It's  the  cause  of  a  great  deal  of  bad 

temper,  too — not  to  mention  biliousness 

Yes.  In  six  weeks.  August  the  tenth.  Why 
should  we  wait  ?  Nothing  to  wait  for  except 
the  clothes. 

Louise. 

Do  you  think  it's  wise,  dear  Lady  Cottrell,  to 
let  your  girl  be  married  so  young  ? 

Isabella. 
[Angrily  under  her  breath.]     Louise ! 


66  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Lady  Cotteell. 
Wise!    Of   course   I    think  it's  wise  or  I 
shouldn't  let  her  do  it. 

Louise. 

It  seems  to  me  to  be  thrusting  responsi- 
bilities upon  her  almost  too  early.  {With 
a  rapid,  affectedly  impulsiwe  movement,  she 
darts  to  the  cushion  seat  and  drops  grace- 
fully upon  it  almost  at  Lady  Cottrell's 
feet]  J)o  let  her  remain  a  child  a  little 
longer. 

[Isabella  looks  at  Henry,  who  shrugs 
his  shoulders. 

Lady  Cottrell. 

Every  girl  ought  to  be  married  by  the  time 
she's  twenty.  I  was — so  were  my  two  sis- 
ters ;  so  was  my  eldest  daughter,  and  so  shall 
Maggie  be.  Marriage  comes  natural  to  a  girl 
at  that  age.  She  loves  her  husband  and  obeys 
him  instead  of  sitting  up  and  criticizing  him 
as  they  do  if  they  haven't  acquired  the  wifely 
habit  in  good  time — the  good  old  habit  of 
subjection.  It's  all  due  to  this  present  craze 
for  late  marriages  that  we  have  so  many 
hysterical  spinsters.  They  don't  know  what's 
the  matter  with  them,  but  their  mothers  do. 
Nothing  infuriates  me  more  than  the  way  our 
modern  young  women  spend  the  time  when  they 


A  SINGLE  MAN  67 

ought  to  be  having  children,  in  thinking 
and  reading  and  writing  and  talking  about 
marriage;  deciding  among  themselves  what 
men  ought  to  be  like.  By  the  time  they 
think  they  are  ready  to  put  on  their  orange 
blossoms,  they've  grown  so  exacting  they 
can't  settle  down  to  one  man.  Maggie  shall 
marry  in  good  time.  [Enter  Gladys  with 
the  tea,  and  plate  of  hot  buns  which  she  places 
on  the  oval  table  up  stage.]  Tea !  [Cheer- 
fully.'] I  feel  about  ready  for  it  after  that 
harangue. 

[  Goes  up  to  inspect  the  tea  table.  Gladys 
goes  out.  Henby  joins  Lady  Cot- 
tkell  at  the  tea  table.  Louise  re- 
mains drooping  upon  the  cushion-seat 
the  picture  of  despair.  Isabella 
goes  towards  the  window,  passing  be- 
tween Louise  and  the  sofa. 

Isabella. 
[As  she  passes  Louise.]     Get  up » 

Louise. 
[Slowly  rising  to  her  full  height  and  saying 
tragically  to  herself]     August  the  tenth  ! 

[She  presses  her  hand  to  her  temples. 

Isabella. 
[At    the    window^]    They've  finished  their 
game. 


68  A  SINGLE  MAN 

HENEYo 
Are  they  coming  in  ? 

Isabella. 
Yes.    Racing  to  see  who'll  get  here  first. 
Bertha  Sims  is  last. 

Lady  Cotteell. 
Who's  first? 

Isabella. 

Your  son. 

[Enter  Dickie  Cotteell  carrying  a 
racquet.  He  is  a  bright-faced,  merry 
boy  of  eighteen.  He  wears  tennis  flan- 
nels.    He  enters  running. 

Dickie. 

Here  we  are !  [Dickie  runs  m,  then  turning 
to  look  at  the  others  who  are  following.]  Come 
along,  Mr.  Worthington ! 

[Bobltst  and  Maggie  enter,  hand  in  hand, 
running.     Eobin  is  rather  blown. 

Maggie. 
I'd  have  won  if  you  hadn't  held  me  back. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  69 

KOBIN. 
[Protesting.']     I  can  run  as  fast  as  any  of  you. 

Dickie. 

Are  you  out  of  breath,  Mr.  Worthington  ? 

Kobin. 

[Who  obviously  is  out  of  breathy  No,  of 
course  I'm  not  out  of  breath. 

Maggie. 
Shall  we  all  sprint  back  to  the  tennis  lawn 
and  back  again  ? 

Eobin. 

[Very  positively.]     No!     Certainly  not ! 

Dickie. 

[Dancing  up  stage  and  looking  off  in  the  direc- 
tion they  home  come.]  Here  comes  Bertha !  Go 
it,  Bertha !    Kun,  Bertha ! 

[He  claps  his  hands. 

Maggie. 
[Clapping   her    hands    and   dancing    about 
with  Dickie,  screaming.]     Bertha !    Bertha ! 
Bertha ! 

[Enter  Bertha  Sims.  Bertha  is  a  fat 
girl  of  sixteen.  She  is  puffing  and 
blowing  as  she  runs  in. 


70  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Bertha. 
I  didn't  get  a  fair  start. 

Kobin. 
[Laughing.']     Poor  Bertha ! 

Dickie. 
Good  old  Bertha ! 

[He  slaps  Bertha  soundly  on  the  lack. 

Bertha. 

Don't ! 

Lady  Cottrell. 
Dickie !    You  mustn't  do  such  things  as  that. 
[Dickie  is  momentarily  subdued. 

Maggie. 
[Dancing  up  to  the  tea  table.]     Come  on,  come 
on,  come  on.     Tea ! 

[She  seats  herself  at  the  tea  table. 

Kobin. 
Come  on,  Dickie.     We'll  have  tea  at  the  big 
table. 

Dickie. 
[Making  Kobin  pass  in  front  of  him.]     i  ou 
must  sit  beside  your  inamorata. 

Kobin. 
[Going  to  the  seat  by  Maggie,  he  says  before 
he  sits.]    Come  along,  Bertha. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  ?l 

Bertha. 
Where  shall  I  sit? 

Robin. 
Anywhere. 

[Robin  and  Maggie  pour  out  the  tea  to- 
gether. 

Dickie. 
Don't  make  a  fuss,  Bertha.     It  doesn't  mat- 
ter in  the  least  where  you  sit. 

[Bertha  sits  down. 

Lady  Cottrell. 
[To  Louise.]     I  think  we  may  as  well  let  the 
gentlemen  wait  upon  us,  don't  you,  Miss  Parker  ? 

Louise. 
August  the  tenth,  did  you  say  ? 

Lady  Cottrell. 
Yes;  I  suppose  you'll  have  gone  away  by 
then? 

Louise. 
[Mysteriously.']     I  don't  know. 

[There  is  some  general  chattering  and 
laughter  at  the  tea  table. 

Henry. 
May  I  give  you  some  tea,  Lady  Cottrell  ? 


72  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Lady  Cottrell. 

Thank  you. 

[She  takes  a  cup  of  tea  from  Henry. 

Henry. 
[Giving  anotlier  cup  to  Louise.]     Tea  ? 

Louise. 
Thanks. 

Lady  Cottrell. 

.  [Calling  out]     Dickie!     Bring  Miss  Parker 
and  me  some  buns. 

[Shrieks  of  laughter  come  from  the  tea 
table.     They  all  look  towards  it. 

Kobin. 

[Rising  and  scarcely  able  to  speak  for  laugh- 
ter.] Bertha — has  just  stuck  her  thumb  in  the 
strawberry  jam. 

[He  sits  down  shaking  with  laughter. 
All  the  others  laugh,  too,  except  Louise. 
Bertha,  sucking  Tier  left  thumb,  laughs 
round  at  them  all,  delighted  with 
herself. 

Lady  Cottrell. 

[Turning  to  Louise  says,  laughing."]  Bertha 
has  just  stuck  her  thumb  in  the  strawberry  jam. 

[Louise  doesnH  laugh. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  73 

Dickie. 
Oh,  Bertha,  you  are  a  disgusting  girl ! 

Maggie. 
Sit  down ! 

[She  throws  a  piece  of  food  at  Dickie. 
They  all  laugh  and  chatter  round  the 
table. 

Lady  Cotteell. 

[To  Louise.]  How  delightful  it  is  to  see 
Mr.  Worthington  unbend  with  the  young  peo- 
ple !  No  one  would  think,  to  look  at  him  now, 
that  he's  a  clever  man. 

[Lady  Cotteell  and  Louise  turn  to 
look  at  Robin,  who  is  whispering 
with  Maggie,  his  face  nearly  under 
the  brim  of  her  hat.  Louise  rises 
hastily,  and  goes  up  towards  the 
window. 

Isabella. 

[Anxiously  to  Heney.]  What  is  Louise  up 
to  now  ? 

Louise. 

[Calling.']  Mr.  Worthington.  [Robin  is  so 
engrossed  in  Maggie  he  doesnH  hear  Louise. 
She  calls  louder.]     Mr.  Worthington ! 


74  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Robin. 
{Turning  to  Louise.]     Yes  ? 

Louise. 
Do  come  here.     I  want  to  show  you  some- 
thing. 

Robin. 
[To  Maggie.]    Excuse  me  a  minute. 

[He  joins  Louise. 

Louise. 

[Affectedly,  indicating  the  view  from  the 
window.]  Aren't  the  various  lights  and  shad- 
ows in  the  garden  lovely  ? 

Robin. 
Lovely ! 

[He    hurries    back   to    his    seat    beside 
Maggie. 

Louise. 
[Gazing  across   the  garden.]     They  remind 
me  of  Bruges. 

[She  holes  round  and  finds  him  gone, 
then  she  gets  a  book  and  sits  down. 

Isabella. 

[To  Henry.]  Trying  to  make  out  she's  so 
travelled. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  75 

Beetha. 
I  say,  can  any  of  you  do  this  ? 

[She  throws  a  lump  of  sugar  in  the  air 
and  tries  to  catch  it  in  her  mouth,  hut 
fails. 

Maggie. 
Yes.     [She  throws  a  piece  of  food  at  Bertha. 

Bertha. 
Pig! 

[She  throws  a  piece  of  food  bach  at 
Maggie.  Maggie  throws  a  bun  at 
Bertha.  Lady  Cottrell  laughs 
heartily. 

Kobin. 
Can  you  do  this  ? 

[Juggling  with  some  lumps  of  sugar. 

Maggie. 
[Taking  lumps  of  sugar  from  the  sugar-basin.] 
Oh !  I  must  try  that.     One,  two,  three  ! 

[Juggling  with  them. 

Dickie. 

[Also  juggling  with  lumps  of  sugar."]     One, 
two,  three ! — Don't  jog  me. 

Bertha. 
Look !     [She  tries  to  balance  her  teaspoon  on 
her  nose. 


76  A   SINGLE  MAN 

[Enter  Miss  Heseltine  with  a  type- 
written letter  in  her  hand.  She  re- 
mains near  the  door,  a  little  timid 
among  all  the  noise  and  laughter 
which  seems  to  greet  her.  They  sub- 
side when  she  enters,  and  all  look 
towards  her.  Robin  comes  down  to 
Miss  Heseltine. 

Robin. 
What  is  it,  Miss  Heseltine  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 

You  asked  me  to  bring  you  this  letter  as  soon 
as  it  was  written. 

Robin. 

Oh,  yes.  [Taking  the  letter  from  Miss  Hes- 
eltine he  reads  it  over  to  himself.']  That 
seems  all  right.  [He  looks  at  Miss  Heseltine 
and  says  kindly.]  You  look  tired.  You'd  bet- 
ter leave  off  for  to-day  and  go  home. 

Miss  Heseltine.  . 
I  haven't  finished  typing  the  American  article. 

Robin. 
Won't  it  do  to-morrow  ? 


A  SINGLE  MAN  J7 

Miss  Heseltine. 
You  promised  to  send  it  off  to-night. 

Robin. 
But  I  don't  want  you  to  overwork  yourself. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
If  I  didn't  overwork  myself — /  might  lose 
my  head,  too. 

[She  takes  the  letter  out  of  his  hand  and 
goes  out  quickly  with  it.  Robin  looks 
after  her  till  she  has  closed  the  door. 
Louise  comes  towards  him,  smiling, 
with  a  small  volume  in  her  hand. 

Louise. 
Mr.  Worthington,  have  you  read  this  new 
volume  of  Eastern  Poems  ? 

Robin. 
[Preocoupied.]     Yes. 

Louise. 
Do  you  think  we  are  meant  to  take  them 
literally  or  allegorically  ? 

Robin. 
Both. 

[He passes  Louise  and  sits  on  the  cushion 
seat,  taking  out  his  cigarette  case  and 
helping  himself  to  a  cigarette,  while 
Louise  sits  on  the  settee  and  peruses 
the  volume  of  Eastern  Poems. 


jZ  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Dickie. 
[Coming  to  Robin.]    Shall  we  go  and  play 
some  more  tennis  ? 

Robin. 

Not  yet. 

Dickie. 
Why  not  ?    What  are  we  waiting  for  ? 

Robin. 
Digestion. 

Dickie. 
You  don't  need  to  digest  a  cup  of  tea  and  a 
handful  of  buns. 

Robin. 
You  don't.    7  do. 

Dickie. 
Mag! 

Maggie. 

Yes? 

Dickie. 
Make    him    come  and  play  tennis.      He's 
slacking. 

Maggie. 
[Coming  to  Robin.]     Don't  make  him  play 
if  he  doesn't  want  to.     [Kindly  to  Robin.] 
Fib  go  and  play  with  them  while  you  have 
your  snooze. 


A   SINGLE  MAN  79 

ROBIN. 
[Jumping  up  as  if  he  had  been  shot]     Snooze ! 
I  don't  want  a  snooze  !     [Gaily.']     Who's  com- 
ing to  play  tennis  ? 

Beetha. 
[Still  eating  a  bun.]     I'm  ready. 
Maggie. 

Come  along  then. 

[Maggie  goes  into  the  garden,  running. 

Beetha. 
Wait  a  tick. 

[Exit  Beetha,  running  and  eating. 

Dickie. 
Come  along,  Mr.  Worthington. 

[Exit  Dickie  running. 

Heney. 
I  say,  Eobin,  you'd  much  better  not  play 
again  immediately. 

Robin. 
Why?     They  do. 

Heney. 
They  are  a  generation  younger  than  you. 

Robin. 
I  wish  everybody  wouldn't  treat  me  as  if  I 
were  an  old  gentleman. 

[He  goes  out  after  them. 


80  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Lady  Cotteell. 
I  declare,  Captain  Worthington,  your  brother 
is  the  youngest  of  the  party. 

Henry. 

He'll  pay  for  it  to-morrow.  He'll  be  so  stiff 
he  won't  be  able  to  walk. 

Lady  Cotteell. 

After  a  few  sets  of  tennis  ?  He's  not  as  old 
as  all  that. 

Heney 

It's  not  the  tennis  that's  going  to  find  him 
out.  It's  all  that  idiotic  ragging  and  jumping 
about  and  screaming.  It's  not  natural  at  his 
time  of  life.  A  man  of  such  sedentary  habits, 
too. 

Isabella. 

If  he's  not  very  careful  he'll  break  one  of  his 
ligaments. 

Louise. 

It's  so  bad  for  him  intellectually  to  mix  with 
such  very  young  people.  A  man  of  his  ability 
ought  not  to  have  been  so  much  amused  when 
Miss  Sims  stuck  her  thumb  in  the  strawberry 
jam. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  8 1 

Lady  Cottrell. 

/  was  exceedingly  amused.  It  was  a 
thoroughly  characteristic  example  of  British 
wit  and  humour. 

[She  goes  out.  Isabella  glances  at 
Louise  who  is  again  absorbed  in  the 
Eastern  Poems  before  she  says  to 
Henry  in  an  undertone. 

Isabella. 

I  consider  the  way  Louise  behaved  all  through 
tea  was  nothing  short  of  scandalous. 

Henry. 

You'll  really  have  to  say  something  to  her. 
You'd  better  take  this  opportunity. 

[Exit  Henry. 

Isabella. 
Louise — I'm  ashamed  of  you ! 

Louise. 
[In  mild  surprise.]     Why  ? 

Isabella. 
Everybody  must  have  noticed. 

Louise. 

What? 


82  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Isabella. 
The  way  you  run  after  Eobin.  [Louise 
looks  affronted.]  Your  attempts  to  wean  him 
away  from  Maggie — [with  a  reproving  smile  as 
Louise  is  about  to  retort]  your  own  words, 
dear.  [Louise  hangs  her  head.]  And  it's  not 
only  to-day,  it's  all  the  time.  I  don't  know 
what  Lady  Cottrell  must  think. 

Louise. 
[Retorting.]    I  am  only  treating  Mr.  Worth- 
ington  as  I  treat  every  man. 

Isabella. 
I  hope  not. 

Louise. 
I  mean  to  say — I'm  amazed  you  should  see 
anything  to  criticize  in  my  behaviour.  1  am 
sure  no  one — except  you  who  know  why  you 
invited  me  and  are  therefore,  I  suppose,  on  the 
lookout  for  motives  in  everything  I  do — no  one 
else  could  say  otherwise  than  that  I  treat  Mr. 
Worthington  in  a  perfectly  easy  and  friendly 
manner. 

Isabella. 
It  was  the  same  thing  at  schooL 

Louise. 
I  don't  know  what  you  mean. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  83 

Isabella. 
You  can't  have  forgotten  the  young  man  with 
the  bicycle  who  lived  opposite  ! 

Louise. 
[Angry.]     I  wasn't  the  only  one.     You  and 
Jinny  and  Margaret  were  just  as  bad. 

Isabella. 
There !     That  is  an  illustration  of  what  I 
mean.     You  think  we  were  as  bad  as  you. 

Louise. 

You  were, 

Isabella. 

"We  were  all  just  as  madly  in  love  with  him, 
but  we  none  of  us  went  the  lengths  you  did. 
We  only  smiled  at  him  and  waved  our  pocket 
handkerchiefs.  You  used  to  write  him  letters 
and  threw  nosegays  at  him  out  of  your  bed- 
room window — till  he  got  in  such  a  fright  he 
told  his  mother  and  she  complained,  and  you 
were  expelled. 

Louise. 
[Crestfallen^     I  don't  see  why  you  need  rake 
that  up  now. 

Isabella. 
I  only  remind  you  of  it  because  you  are  still 
doing  exactly  the  same  sort  of  thing. 


84  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Louise. 
When  have  I  ever  written  a  letter  to  Mr. 
Worthington  ?    When  have  I  thrown  a  single 
nosegay  at  him  ? 

Isabella. 
You've  got  beyond  that  I  should  hope.  What 
I  mean  to  say  is — here  you  are  again,  making 
the  boldest  advances — without  apparently  real- 
izing that  you  are  doing  anything  out  of  the 
ordinary. 

Louise. 
[Childishly.]     I'm  very  much  hurt  that  you 
should  think  such  things  about  me.     You've 
made  me  feel  horrid. 

Isabella. 
Let  me  give  you  a  word  of  advice,  Louise. 

Louise. 
Well,  what  is  it  ? 

Isabella. 

It's  not  the  way  to  succeed  in  love  to  be  so 
persevering. 

Louise. 
[Sitting  on  the  floor  at  Isabella's/^  m  the 
attitude  of  one  willing  to  learn.]     What  do  you 
think  would  be  a  better  way  ? 


A   SINGLE  MAN  85 

Isabella. 
Be  more  reticent.     If  you  don't  encourage  a 
man  too  much  he  will  make  advances. 

Louise. 
[Thoughtfully.']    Not  always. 

Isabella. 
You  must  show  him  now  and  then  that  you 
like  him. 

Louise. 
Of  course. 

Isabella. 
But  don't  show  him  too  often.     Otherwise  he 
takes  fright  or  gets  bored — or  says  to  himself, 
"I   can   have   her  any  time,"  and  takes  no 
trouble,  so  nothing  comes  of  it. 

Louise. 
That's  so  true ! 

Isabella. 
[  Warming  to  her  subject.]  Baffle  them  a  bit. 
Then  they  begin  to  wonder  about  you  till  their 
heads  become  so  full  of  you  they  can  think 
of  nothing  else.  That's  love.  [As  she  meets 
Louise's  earnest  and  inquiring  gaze  she  stops 
short]  Oh !  [  Uneasily.]  I  hope  you  don't 
think  I  am  giving  you  hints  as  to  how  to  suc- 
ceed with — any  one  in  particular  ? 


86  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Louise. 
Oh,  no,  dear.    We  were  speaking  quite  im- 
personally. 

Isabella. 
I  can't  think  how  I  allowed  myself  to  be  led 
away  into  considering  the  best  ways  to  attract 
men  except  that  the  subject  is  so  engrossing. 
But  that's  not  what  we  are  talking  about.  I'll 
have  nothing  to  do  with  helping  you  to  wean 
Kobin  away  from  Maggie.  I've  told  you  so  re- 
peatedly.    I  don't  think  you  ought  to  be  here. 

Louise. 
"Whenever  I  propose  leaving,  Mr.  Worthing- 
ton  invariably  asks  me  to  stay  on. 

Isabella. 
Mere  politeness. 

Louise. 
I  couldn't  very  well  leave  by  the  next  train 
because  I  found  on  my  arrival  that  Mr.  Worth- 
ington  was  engaged. 

Isabella. 
I  never  suggested  you  should  leave  by  the 
next  train.  The  right  and  proper  thing  for  you 
to  have  done  was  to  have  stayed  here  for  two 
or  three  days,  and  then  had  an  engagement  else- 
where. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  87 

Louise. 
[Thoughtfully.]    I  had  thought  of  leaving 
to-morrow. 

Isabella. 
That's  right. 

Louise. 
But  I  have  just  heard  that  the  wedding  day 
is  fixed  for  August  the  tenth.     It'll  look  very 
funny  if  I  leave  now. 

Isabella. 
It'll  look  much  funnier  if  you  don't. 

Louise. 
Every  one  would  say,  "  Miss  Parker  stayed 
until  the  wedding  day  was  fixed,  then,  seeing 
she  had  no  chance,  she  left."  Oh,  no — I  can't 
leave  now.  It  would  be  putting  myself  in  a 
very  false  position. 

Isabella. 
You  canH  hang  on   like  this !     {Marching 
towards  Louise  and  saying  with  great  determi- 
nation.]   You  really  must  go — please,  dear. 

Louise. 
[Calmly  and  seriously.']     And   do  you  sin- 
cerely believe,  Isabella,  that  Maggie  Cottrell 
will  make  him  happy  ? 


88  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Isabella. 

That's  nobody's  business  but  his.  He  has 
chosen  her.  He  is  engaged  to  her,  and  he  is 
going  to  be  married  to  her  in  six  weeks. 

Louise. 

[Moving  about,  as  she  says,  dramatically. ~\ 
It  must  be  stopped !  Why  can't  you  do  some- 
thing ?  Why  doesn't  your  husband  interfere  ? 
He  ought  to  save  his  brother.  Poor  Mr. 
Worthington  is  out  of  his  mind.  He's  in- 
fatuated, bewitched.  He'll  be  bored  to  death 
in  no  time  by  that  wretched  chit  of  a  child. 

Isabella. 

[Quite  unimpressed  by  Louise's  exhibition 
of  feeling.]     When  are  you  going  to  leave  ? 

Louise. 
[Deliberately. ,]     I  haven't  made  up  my  mind. 

Isabella. 
I  shall  tell  Henry.        [Enter  Kobin  quickly. 

Kobin. 

[Indignantly.]  What  do  you  think? 
They've  got  tired  of  playing  tennis,  and  now 
they  want  to  play  hide-and-seek  all  over  the 
garden !    I  won't  do  it.         [Isabella  laughs. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  89 

Louise. 

[Smiling  at  Robin.]  Poor  Mr.  Worthington ! 
We'll  protect  you. 

Eobin. 

[Still  speaking  indignantly.']  I  can't  keep 
this  up.  I've  been  on  the  go  ever  since 
three  o'clock.  [He  sits.]  The  more  they  run 
about  the  livelier  they  get,  but  I  don't. 
[Miter  Maggie.  Robin  does  not  see  her, 
as  Ms  back  is  towards  her.  Maggie  puts 
her  finger  to  her  lips  as  a  sign  to  Isabella 
and  Louise  not  to  let  Robin  know  she  is  there. 
She  advances  towards  Robin  smiling,  and  on  tip- 
toe, then  suddenly  puts  her  hands  over  his  eyes 
and  laughs.  Robin,  taken  hy  surprise,  is  ex- 
ceedingly annoyed,  struggles,  and  says,  crossly.] 
Don't  do  that.  Who  is  it  ?  [He  frees  himself, 
rises,  and  seeing  Maggie  softens.]  Oh! 
Maggie,  is  it  you?  [He  takes  her  hand  and 
says  kindly.]  I'm  sorry  I  spoke  crossly — but 
you  know,  my  dear — I  think  you  are  getting  a 
little  old  to  do  that  sort  of  thing. 

Maggie. 

[Sweetly.]  You  said  the  other  day  that  the 
way  I  play  and  run  about  is  one  of  my  chief 
charms  in  your  eyes. 


90  A  SINGLE  MAN 

ROBIN. 

I  like  you  to  be  playful  prettily. 

[Me  talks  apart  with  Maggie. 

Isabella. 
[To  Louise  as  she  goes  towards  the  door.] 
Come  along,  Louise.     I   don't  think  we  are 
wanted  here.  [She  waits  for  Louise. 

Louise. 
[Rising  reluctantly,  glances  at  Robin  and 
Maggie,  and  then  joins  Isabella.]     He  is 
beginning  to  get  bored  with  her.     I  shall  cer- 
tainly not  leave  yet. 

[Isabella  and  Louise  go  out 

Maggie. 
Shall  we  go  out  ? 

Robin. 
Presently. 

Maggie. 
It's  a  sin  to  stick  in  the  house  on  a  day  like 
this.  [Robin  invites  her  in  smiling  dumb  show 
to  come  and  sit  beside  him  on  the  sofa.  She 
comes  towards  him  as  she  says.]  Yery  well. 
We'll  sit  here  just  five  minutes. 

[She  springs  on  to  the  sofa  beside  him 
and  nestles  close  up  to  him.  He  puts 
his  arm  round  her. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  91 

ROBIN. 
This  is  the  nicest  part  of  the  whole  day. 

Maggie. 
I  love  playing  hide-and-seek. 

Robin. 
I  love  having  you  all  to  myself. 

[MAGGIE  smiles  up  m  his  face,  then 
gives  his  nose  a  little  playful  pinch. 
He  hisses  her  hand. 

Maggie. 
{Counting  the  buttons  down  his  coat  with  her 
forefinger. ,]  One,  two,  three,  four.  I  feel 
terribly  kiddish  to-day.  Some  days — when  it's 
fine  and  bright  like  this — I  just  want  to  run 
about  very  fast  all  the  time  like  a  field-mouse. 

Robin. 
Don't  you  ever  want  to  sit  still  and  bask  like 
a  lizard  ? 

Maggie. 
Oh,  no,  never — at  least — not  for  long  at  a 
time.     I  always  want  to  be  up  and  doing.     I 
feel  as  if  I  could  dance  and  sing  the  minute  I 
get  up  in  the  morning. 

Robin. 
I  can't  bear  being  active  before  breakfast ! 


92  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Maggie. 

Can't  you  ?  /  can.  [He  puts  his  arm 
further  round  her  to  draw  her  closer  to  him.~\ 
Wait  a  minute.  That's  not  comfortable.  [She 
sits  up  and  shakes  herself,  then  leans  her  back 
against  his  shoulder,  mi  a  most  unromantic  posi- 
tion.] There!  That's  better!  [She  lets  her 
head  fall  back  on  his  shoulder,  which  places  him 
in  a  most  uncomfortable  position^]  I  could  go 
to  sleep  like  this. 

KOBIN. 

/couldn't. 

[Enter  Gladys  to  clear  away  the  tea- 
things  followed  by  Mrs.  Higson. 
Mrs.  Higson  is  the  housekeeper;  a 
middle  aged  respectable  looking  woman. 
Maggie  sits  up  and  then  goes  to  the 
window. 

Maggie. 

She's  come  to  clear  away.  We'd  better  go 
out. 

Eobin. 

{Also  rising.]  She'll  have  finished  in  a  min- 
ute. [To  Mrs.  Higson.]  We've  made  rather 
a  mess  there,  haven't  we,  Mrs.  Higson  ? 

[Takes  a  cigarette. 


A   SINGLE  MAN  93 

Mrs.  Higson. 

What  does  that  matter,  sir,  so  long  as  you 
enjoyed  yourselves  ? 

Robin. 
After  all — one  is  only  middle-aged  once. 

Maggie. 

I  should  enjoy  a  good  game  of  hide-and- 
see.nL. 

[Robin  takes  out  his  match-box  and 
strikes  a  match.  Maggie  runs  quickly 
towards  him  and  blows  out  his  match. 

Robin. 

[ Taken  by  surprise,  is  annoyed.]     Oh,  don't 
— please.    What  a  silly  thing  to  do. 

Maggie. 
[Laughs.']  All  right.  I  won't  do  it  again. 
[Having  gathered  up  everything  Mks.  Higson 
goes  out.  Robin  strikes  a  second  match  and 
while  he  is  doing  so  Maggie  snatches  the  ciga- 
rette out  of  his  mouth  and  runs  away  with  it, 
saying  gaily.]  I  didn't  say  I  wouldn't  do  that. 
I  love  playing  tricks  on  people.  [Gladys  fol- 
lows Mrs.  Higson  off  with  the  tea-cloth  and  cake- 
stand.  Robin  sits  on  the  settee  looking  very 
solemn.]     You  aren't  cross,  are  you  ? 


94  A  SINGLE  MAN 

EoBIN. 
No,  dear,   but  you  know — sometimes — you 
are  just  a  little  bit  rough. 

[Maggie  crosses  to  him  and  kisses  Kim 
on  the  cheek  very  nicely  and  gently, 
then  steps  back.  He  smiles  at  her  quite 
won  over. 

Maggie. 
Shall  we  go  out  now  ? 

Eobin. 
Soon.     [Leans  towards  her.]     Sit  down  and 
have  a  little  talk  first. 

[Maggie,  showing  no  inclination  to  be 
cuddlesome,  sits  on  the  cushion  seat. 

Maggie. 
What  do  you  want  to  talk  about  ? 

Eobin. 
[Smiling.]     August  the  tenth. 

Maggie. 
We  talked  about  that  this  morning. 

Eobin. 
[  Wistfully.]     Do  you  remember  that  even- 
ing when  we  sat  in  this  room  for  a  long  time, 
holding  each  other's  hands  and  hardly  saying 
a  word  ? 


A  SINGLE  MAN  95 

Maggie. 
[Cheerfully  7\     We  were  two  sleepy  things. 
We'd  been  out  in  the  air  all  day. 

Kobin. 
It  was  such  a  happy,  restful  evening. 

Maggie. 
Wasn't  it — but  when  I'm  feeling  really  strong 
there's  nothing  I  like  so  well  as  to  dance  till 
midnight  and  end  up  with  a  good  pillow  fight. 

Eobin. 
[Slowly  and  thoughtfully.']     There  is  a  great 
difference — in  our  ages. 

[Enter  Miss  Heseltine.  She  carries  a 
number  of  loose  typewritten  pages  m 
her  hand. 

Maggie. 
Hullo,  Miss  Heseltine. 

Kobin. 
[To  Miss  Heseltine.]    Do  you  want  me 
for  anything  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  can  come  later  on,  if  it's  inconvenient  now. 

Kobin. 
If  you  wouldn't  mind. 


96  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Maggie. 
[Springing  up.]    No.    This  is  business.     [To 
Miss  Heseltine.]    You  told  me  I  must  never 
interfere  with   his  business.     I'll  go  out  and 
play  with  Dickie  and  Bertha,     /don't  mind. 

[She  pats  Kobin's  arm  and  goes  off '  to 
the  garden  skippingly — and  calling 
"Dickie." 

Miss  Heseltkste. 
[Ref erring  to  the  pages  in  her  hand.']     There 
seems  to  be  something  wrong  with  this. 

Eobin. 
[Takes pages.]    Is  that  the  American  article  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Yes.     I  wouldn't  have  disturbed  you  with  it 
now,  only  it  must  go  to-night. 

Eobin. 
"What's  wrong  with  it  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
You've  written  parts  of  it  in  the  first  person 
singular  and  other  parts  in  the  first  person 
plural. 

Eobin. 
Not  really  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Yes. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  97 

ROBIN. 
[Glancing  down  the  sheets.]    So  I  have.   How 
did  I  come  to  make  such  a  mistake  as  that  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Primly.]     You  must  have  had  your  head 
full  of  something  else. 

Robin. 
[Turning  over  the  sheets.]    Like  when  I  wrote 
that  article  the  other  day  and  called  beer  rice. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Yes.     And  in  the  last  chapter  of  the  new 
novel  you  called  several  of  the  characters  by 
the  wrong  names. 

Robin. 
[Looking  at  her  before  saying,  gravely.]     Has 
all  my  work  been  careless  lately  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Yes,  very. 

Robin. 
Sit  down,  won't  you,  while  I  look  over  this. 
[Miss  Heseltine  sits.]  It  means  going 
over  the  whole  thing  carefully  from  beginning 
to  end,  and  I  am  so  tired !  [Turning  over  a 
page  or  two.]  T  can't  do  any  good  with  it  till 
I've  had  at  least  an  nour's  rest. 


98  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Miss  Heseltine. 

That  throws  it  so  late.  It  has  to  be  typed 
after  you've  been  through  it. 

Kobin. 

[Sighing.']  Oh,  dear,  then  I  suppose  I  must, 
but  you  know — it's  not  so  much  that  I'm  tired 
physically.  It's  my  brain — it's  completely  dis- 
organized.   I  can't  concentrate. 

Miss  Heseltine. 

I  think  /  could  make  the  necessary  changes 
if  you'd  trust  it  to  me.  [She  comes  towards  him.] 
I  could  take  it  home  to  do  and  bring  it  back  to 
you  this  evening. 

Kobin. 

"Why  take  it  home  ?  Why  can't  you  do  it 
here? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
There's  too  much  noise  in  the  garden. 

Kobin. 
[  With  a  weary  little  smile.]     It  isn't  like  our 
usual  quiet  afternoons,  is  it  ? 

Miss  Heseliine. 
No,  it  isn't— not  at  aii. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  99 

Kobin. 

It  won't  be  like  this  much  longer.  When 
I'm  married  and  we've  settled  down — you  and  I 
will  be  able  to  work  together  peacefully  again 
— as  we  used  to  do.     Shan't  we  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Taking  the  pages  from  him.']     I'm  afraid 
not. 

Robin. 

Why  not  ? 

Miss  Heselthste. 
Because  when  you  are  married — I  shan't  be 
here. 

Kobiist. 
[Surprised.']     What    do    you    mean  ?    You 
won't  be  here  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I'm  leaving  Farnham. 

Robin. 
Leaving  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Yes. 

Robin. 
Where  are  you  going  ? 


IOO  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  don't  know  quite.    I  think  I  shall  go  and 
live  in  London. 

Eobin. 
That's  not  far  away.    You  can  still  come  and 
work  for  me— can't  you  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  don't  think  so.  [Moves  as  if  to  go. 

Eobin. 
Wait  a  minute.    I  want  to  know  about  this. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
That's  all.     I  find  I  must  leave. 

Eobin. 
[Going  towards  her.']    People  don't  usually 
leave  without  giving  a  reason.     [Miss  Hesel- 
tine  hesitates.']     I  think  you  owe  me  some  ex- 
planation. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Looking  at  the  pages  in  her  hand.]     I  must 
go  and  do  this  now. 

Eobin. 
[Takvng  her  by  the  arm.]     Sit  down  and  tell 
me  why  you  want  to  leave  me. 

[Miss  Heseltine  reluctantly  sits  again. 
He  watches  her  all  the  time,  standing. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  IOI 

Miss  Heseltine. 
There's  no  particular  reason — that  I  can  give 
you. 

Eobin. 
What  do  you  intend  to  do  after  you  leave 
here? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
That  hasn't  been  definitely  decided  yet. 

Kobin. 
Then  why  need  you  go  ?     [Miss  Heseltine 
looks  on  the  ground.']     I  don't  want  to  be  too 
inquisitive,  but  it's  so  extraordinary  that  you 
can't  give  me  any  reason. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  need  a  change. 

Eobin. 
If  it's  a  holiday  you  want 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Interrupting  him.']     Oh,  no,  thank  you.     I 
don't  want  a  holiday.     I  had  three  weeks  in 
April. 

Eobin. 
And  you'll  be  having  another  three  or  four 
weeks   quite  soon — when   I  go  away  on  my 
honeymoon. 


102  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  shall  have  left  before  that. 

Kobin. 
I  had  no  idea  you  were  dissatisfied.     [Miss 
Heseltine  makes  a  restless,  nervous  movement.'] 
If  it's  a  question  of  earning  more  money — I  shall 
be  very  happy  to  meet  you  in  any  way  I  can. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
It's  not  that.     Please  don't  think  it's  that. 
I'm  more  than  satisfied  with  what  you  give  me. 

Kobin. 
Are  you  going  to  be  married  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Almost  angrily.]     Of  course  not ! 

[She  turns  away  from  him  in  her  seat 

KOBIN. 

Then  what  is  it  ?  [  With  a  ring  of  genuine 
distress  in  his  voice  as  he  sits  on  the  ottoman  at 
her  feet.]     Why — why  go  away  and  leave  me  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Distressed  by  his  distress,  is  greatly  agitated.] 
I  must.    I'm  very  sorry — but  I  must! 

Eobin. 
But  I  can't  think  what  I  shall  do  without  you. 
I  shan't  be  able  to  get  on  at  all.    I  can  hardly 


A  SINGLE  MAN  10$ 

imagine  yet  what  it's  going  to  be  like  here 
without  you.  I've  never  thought  of  you  leav- 
ing me.  You've  been  coming  to  me  every  day 
for  such  a  long  time — five  years — it's  a  long 
time.  [Miss  Heseltine,  unable  to  control  her 
agitation,  rises.  He  rises  almost  at  the  same 
time  as  he  says.']    Don't  decide  yet — not  just  yet. 

Miss  Heseltine. 

I  can't  stay.  It's  no  use  pretending  I  can. 
I  can't !    I  can't  do  it ! 

Robin. 

[Puzzled.'}  Are  you  afraid  your  position 
here  is  going  to  be  made  difficult  after  my 
marriage  ?  [A  pause  for  her  to  reply.]  Is  that 
it  ?  [Another  pause  as  before.]  I  don't  see 
why  it  need  be  difficult.  Maggie  is  very  good 
about  not  disturbing  me  in  my  work  hours. 
She  won't  interfere  with  you.     [Making  light 

of  it.]   If  that's  all  it  is [Miss  Heseltine 

bursts  into  tears.  Robin  ^s  very  much  dis- 
tressed to  see  her  in  tears  and  goes  to  her.]  Miss 
Heseltine !  What's  the  matter?  I  can't  bear 
to  see  you  like  this.  What  is  it  ?  Is  it  some- 
thing I've  done?  Have  I  hurt  you  without 
knowing  it  ?  [Putting  his  hands  on  her  shoul- 
ders and  turning  her  towards  him.]  Miss  Hesel- 
tine !  Look  at  me ! — tell  me !  why  must  you 
leave  me  ? 


104  **  SINGLE  MAN 

[He  gently  pulls  her  hands  away  from 
her  face  ;  she  looks  up  at  him  appeal- 
ingly,  unable  to  hide  her  love  for  him. 
lie  understands  and  stands  looking  at 
her  transfixed. 

Maggie. 

[From  the  garden.]  Robin !  What  are  you 
doing  ? 

Dickie. 
[Also  from  the  garden.]    Where  is  he  ? 

Maggie. 

In  here.  [When  their  voices  are  heard, 
Robin  steps  back  from  Miss  Heseltine.  She 
makes  an  undecided  step  or  two  as  if  she  didn't 
know  where  to  go,  then  begms  nervously  gather- 
ing up  the  pages.  Enter  Maggie  followed  by 
Dickie  and  Bertha  Sims,  all  darting  about 
and  skipping.  Maggie,  speaking  as  she  enters 
and  coming  towards  Robin.]  We  want  to  wind 
up  with  something  really  silly  before  we  go 
home. 

Robin. 
[Protesting.]     Oh,  no — my  dears — no ! 

Dickie  and  Bertha. 
Yes,  yes. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  105 

Bertha. 
[Beginning  to   dance   and  sing  by  herself.] 
Here  we  go  round  the  mulberry  bush. 

Dickie. 
[Singing.']     The  mulberry  bush. 

Maggie. 
[Joining  in  as  well.]     The  mulberry  bush  ! 

[They  all  laugh. 
[  While  this  is  going  on  Miss  Hesel- 
tine,  with  the  pages  in  her  hand,  slowly 
goes  out. 
[Louise  comes  in  from  the  garden.     Tak- 
ing in  the  situation,  she  says,  "Mr. 
Worthington,  too  !  "  and  seizing  him 
by  both  hands  dances  him  round.     He 
is  then  swept  into   the  ring  between 
Dickie  and  Maggie.    Louise  tries 
to  enter  the  ring,  first  on  Robin's  left, 
in  which  attempt  she  fails,  and  then  on 
his  right,  this  time  achieving  success. 
They  all  laugh  and  dance  in  a  ring  as 
curtain  falls. 


THE  CURTAIN  FALLS 


THE  THIRD  ACT 

SCEOTL — The  same  as  the  first  act.  The  scene  is 
arranged  as  before  except  that  the  cradle  is 
no  longer  there.  It  is  beginning  to  grow 
dusk.  E-OBIN,  dressed  as  at  the  end  of  the 
second  act,  is  standing,  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  staring  at  MlSS  HESELTINE's  desk. 

Robin. 

[Slowly  and  thoughtfully,  as  if  scarcely  able 
to  credit  what  he  says.']    Miss  Heseltine ! 

[Louise  enters.    She  wears  an  elaborate 
dinner  gown. 

Louise. 
[In  the  doorway.]     May  I  come  in  ? 

Robin. 
[Suddenly  brought  to  himself.]     Is  it  as  late 
as  that  f 

Louise, 
I  dressed  early.     1  mistook  the  time.     The 
drawing-room  was  deserted,  so  I  thought  I'd 
come  in  here.     I  hope  I  don't  intrude. 
1 06 


A  SINGLE  MAN  IO/ 

Robin. 
[Merely  politely.]     Not  at  all. 

Louise. 

[Smiling  as  if  she  had  received  a  most  press- 
ing invitation  to  stay.]  Thank  you !  [She 
closes  the  door  and  comes  toioards  Robin.]  Has 
she  gone  ? 

Robin. 
Yes. 

Louise. 
[  With  a  little  sigh  of  satisfaction.]     Ah  ! 

Robin. 
She  took  her  work  home  to  do. 

Louise. 
Maggie  ? 

Robin. 
Miss  Heseltine.     Oh,   yes;    those    children 
have  all  gone.     Thank  goodness !     [Hurriedly 
correcting  himself]     The  dears. 

Louise. 
Weren't  you  rather  glad — between  ourselves 
— to  see  them  go  ? 

Robin. 
I  don't  feel  safe  even  yet.     I  can't  help 
thinking    that    Bertha    Sims  is  still    lurking 


108  A  SINGLE  MAN 

among  the  bushes— ready  to  spring  out  at  me. 
What's  that  noise  ?  [He  goes  to  the  window  and 
looks  out,  then  closes  the  curtains.']  Only  the 
rooks  going  home. 

[He  goes  towards  the  electric  switch. 

Louise. 

[Sentimentally.]  The  twilight  hour.  [She 
leans  bach  luxuriously  and  says  languidly.] 
How  peaceful  it  is  here !  How  perfectly  har- 
monious !  [Robin  turns  on  the  electric  light. 
This  surprises  and  disconcerts  Louise.]  Oh  ! 
[She  sits  up.  Robin  takes  out  his  cigarette  case 
and  helps  himself  to  a  cigarette.  He  is  absorbed 
in  his  own  thoughts,  and  does  not  notice  Louise.] 
Have  you  got  a  cigarette  to  give  me  f 

Robin. 

[Offering  her  his  cigarette  case.]  I  beg  your 
pardon.     My  mind  was  full  of  something  else. 

Louise. 

[Smiles  at  him  as  she  slowly  draws  a  cigarette 
from  the  case.]     Thank  you  very  much. 

Robin. 
[After  a  moment's  pause.]     Don't  mention  it. 
You  want  a  light. 

[He  moves  away  for  the  match-box,  which 
is  on  the  writing-table,   brings  it  to 


A  SINGLE  MAN  109 

Louise  and  offers  it  to  her.  Louise 
smilingly  makes  a  sign  with  her  hands 
for  him  to  strike  a  match.  He  does 
so.  Louise  does  not  offer  to  take  the 
match,  but  lights  her  cigarette  from  it 
as  he  holds  it. 


Louise. 


Ta! 


Robin. 
I  beg  your  pardon  ? 

Louise. 

Ta!  [Robin  lights  his  own  cigarette  then 
throws  the  match  in  an  ash-tray  and  sits  on 
a  settee  at  some  distance  from  Louise.]  I 
hope  you  don't  object  to  women  smoking  ? 

Robin. 
I  don't  mind  one  way  or  the  other. 

Louise. 
I  was  afraid  you  might  think  it  unwomanly. 

Robin. 
I  shouldn't  like  my  wife  to  smoke. 


110  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Louise. 

[Rising.']  I  practically  never  smoke.  [She 
puts  her  cigarette  on  an  ash-tray '.] 

{Enter  Gladys. 

Gladys. 

{Addressing  Louise.]  If  you  please,  miss, 
Mrs.  Worthington  sent  me  to  say  will  you 
kindly  come  and  talk  to  her  while  she  dresses  ? 


Louise. 

{Sweetly  to  Gladys.]    Tell  Mrs.  Worthington 
I  will  come — presently. 

Gladys. 
Thank  you,  miss.  [Exit  Gladys. 

Kobin. 

If  you  want  to  go  and  talk  to  Isabella,  don't 
mind  me. 

Louise. 
[Reproachfully.']     Do  you  want  me  to  go  ? 

Kobin. 
Oh,  no — I  didn't  mean  that — of  course. 


A   SINGLE  MAN  III 

Louise. 
[Archly.]    Shall  I  stay? 

EOBIN. 

[After  a  pause,  reluctantly.']     Do. 

Louise. 
I  know  you  wouldn't  say  that  unless  you 
meant  it.     [She  sits  by  him.]    You  and  I  never 
seem  to  be  left  alone  together — do  we  ? 

ROBIN. 

[Carelessly.]    Don't  we? 

Louise. 
Never.  And  I  always  feel  we  should  have 
so  much  to  say  to  each  other  if  we  could  once 
break  through  our  British  reserve.  [He  looks 
at  her  in  surprise.  She  smiles  at  him.]  You 
have  drawn  me  to  you  by  your  writings.  I  am 
one  of  your  most  devoted  readers.  I  buy  all 
your  books.  Oftentimes — after  reading  one  or 
other  of  your  various  masterpieces — I  have 
turned  from  the  contemplation  of  Robin  Worth- 
ington,  the  author,  to  the  contemplation  of 
Robin  Worthington  the  man. 

Robin. 
[Embarrassed.]     Oh,  yes ! 

[Enter  Gladys. 


112 


A   SINGLE  MAN 


Gladys. 
[Addressing    Louise.]      Mrs.   Worthington 
says  will  you  please  come  at  once.     It's  most 
partickler. 

Eobin. 
[Attempting  to  rise.]     Don't  let  me  detain 
you. 

Louise. 
[Preventing  Robin  rismg  by  laying  her  hand 
on  his  arm,  as  she  turns  to  Gladys  and  says 
impatiently.]     Say  I  am  coming — presently. 


Gladys. 


Yes,  miss. 


[Exit  Gladys. 


Louise. 
[Intensely.]  I  want  to  see  you  take  your 
place  among  the  immortals.  Y  ou  could  if  you 
would.  But  you  never  will — until  you  have 
the  right  woman  beside  you — a  woman  of 
heart,  brain,  experience — a  woman  who  has 
lived  and  suffered — one  who  would  help  you  in 
your  work,  who  would  be  capable  of  being  at 
the  same  time  your  companion  and  your  inspira- 
tion. [She  drops  her  intense  tone  and  says,  col- 
loquially.] Maggie  Cottrell  can't  appreciate 
you. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  113 

ROBIN. 
[Rising  abruptly,  and  annoyed.]     We  won't 
discuss  her,  please. 

Louise. 
{Reproachfully.]    You  are  angry  with  me. 

ROBIN. 

{Turning    to    her.~\     No,    I'm    not    angry, 
but 

Louise. 
{Interrupting   him    by   rising    and    saying 
frankly.]     Forgive  me !     [She  comes  to  him 
and  extends  both  her  hands.     Robin  reluctantly 
takes  her  hands.] 

[Enter  Gladys. 
Gladys. 
Mrs.  "Worthington  says 

Louise. 
{Losing  her  temper?]     Tell    her   I'm    busy. 
{Exit  Gladys.    Louise  plants  herself  in  front 
of  Robin  and  looks  earnestly  in  his  face.]    You 
do  forgive  me  ? 

Robin. 
{Bored.]     Oh — yes,  of  course. 

Louise. 
Yes,  but  really. 


114  A  SINGLE  MAN 

KoBIN. 

I  must  go  and  dress. 

[He  tries  to  get  past  her. 

Louise. 

[Planting  herself  in  front  of  him."]  I  ought 
not  to  have  spoken  as  I  did  of  Maggie  Cottrell 
— but  I  can't  bear  to  see  you  throwing  your- 
self away. 

Kobin. 
I  shall  be  late. 

[He  makes  another  attempt  to  get  past  her. 

Louise. 

[Preventing  him  getting  away  by  laying  her 
hand  on  his  arm.]  If  only  you  were  going  to 
marry  some  woman  worthy  to  be  your  wife  ! 

Eobin. 

[Trying  to  free  himself.]  Yes,  but  I'm  not 
— I  mean  I  am. 

[Miter  Isabella,  carrying  her  gloves, 
and  then  Heney.  Isabella  wears  a 
smart  dinner-gown,  and  Heney  his 
evening  clothes. 

Isabella. 
[Sharply  as  she  enters.]     Louise  I    I  sent  for 
you  three  times. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  11$ 

Louise. 
[Sweetly  as  she  goes  towards  Isabella.]    I 
know  you  did,  dear.    Was  it  anything  that 
mattered  ? 

[They  talk  together,  Isabella  obviously 
chiding  Louise.  Hovm  joins  Henry 
after  beckoning  him. 

Robin. 
[Drawing  Henry  aside.]     I'm  so  glad  you 
came  in.     I  was  having  such  a  time. 

Henry. 
What's  happened  ? 

Robin. 
I  don't  think  I'm  naturally  the  kind  of  fellow 
who  thinks  every  woman  is  in  love  with  him — 
but  really — this  afternoon!    It  must  be  my 
lucky  day. 

[Isabella  comes  towards  Robin  when 
she  speaks,  while  Louise  sits  by  the 
fire. 

Isabella. 
Aren't  you  going  to  dress  ? 

Eobin. 
Yes,  I'll  go  now. 

Isabella. 
The  cab  will  be  here  in  about  ten  minutes. 


i6 

A 

SINGLE  MAN 

Robin. 

What  cab  ? 

Isabella. 
To  take  us  to  the  Hendersons'. 

Robin. 
[Addressing  Henry  and  Isabella  m  turns 
during  the  next  speech.]  Oh,  dear  me!  yes. 
We  promised  to  go  and  dine  at  the  Hendersons' 
— didn't  we?  I'd  forgotten  all  about  it.  I 
don't  want  to  go  a  bit.  I  say,  couldn't  you 
three  go  without  me  ? 

Henry. 
I  don't  know,  I'm  sure. 

Isabella. 
What  will  Mrs.  Henderson  say  ? 

Robin. 
Tell  her  I  had  to  stay  and  work.     You  don't 
mind,  do  you?    I  really  need  an  evening  to 
myself.     I  shall  dine  quietly  in  my  study,  and 

fo  to  bed  early.  [He  takes  his  latch-key  out  of 
is  pocket  and  gives  it  to  Henry.]  There's 
my  latch-key.  You  don't  mind,  do  you? 
Thanks  so  much ;  it's  awfully  kind  of  you. 

[He  goes  out. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  117 

Isabella. 
How  tiresome  of  him  to   back  out!     [To 
Henry.]    Have  you  got  everything  ? 

Henry. 
I  think  so. 

Isabella. 

Cigarettes  ? 

Henry. 
[Feeling  his  breastpocket.']     Yes. 

Isabella. 
Watch? 

Henry. 
[Feeling  his  watch^ocket.]     Yes. 

Isabella. 
Pocket-handkerchief  ? 

Henry. 

Yes — [looks  in  sleeve  and  jpockef]  no. 

[Exit  Henry. 

Louise. 

[Pressing  her  hands  to  her  terrvples,  and  calling 
out,  as  if  in  sudden  pain.]     Oh — oh  ! 

Isabella. 
[Anxiously.']     What's  the  matter  ? 


118  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Louise. 
I've  got  such  a  splitting  headache.     It's  as 
if  some  one  were  driving  a  nail  right  through 
my  temple. 

Isabella. 
[Coming  towards  Louise,  much  concerned.'] 
I'm  so  sorry. 

Louise. 
I  can't  possibly  go  to  the  Hendersons'. 

Isabella. 

[Immediately    suspicious^   she  hacks  away.~] 
Louise ! 

Louise. 
You  couldn't  ask  me  to  go  to  a  dinner-party 
with  my  head  in  this  state. 

Isabella. 
[Drily.']    You'll  feel  better  soon. 

Louise. 

Whenever  I  have  a  headache  it  always  lasts 
all  the  evening. 

Isabella. 
We'll  take  some  menthol  with  us. 

Louise. 
Think  of  driving  in  a  closed  cab ! 


A   SINGLE  MAN     •  119 

Isabella. 
We'll  have  it  open. 

Louise. 
That  would  blow  our  hair  about. 

Isabella. 
We'll  take  veils. 

Louise. 
It's  no  use,  dear.     I'm  suffering  too  much ;  I 
shouldn't  enjoy  myself. 

Isabella. 
[Mercilessly.']     I  don't  ask  that  you  should 
enjoy  yourself.     I  ask  that  you  should  come 
with  us. 

Louise. 
I  really  must  stay  at  home. 

Isabella. 
Very  well,  then — we'll  all  stay  at  home. 

[She  sits  down  facing  Louise.  Louise 
looks  poutingly  at  Isabella  a  mo- 
ment before  she  speaks. 

Louise. 
There's  no  dinner  for  you. 

Isabella. 

There's  none  for  you,  either. 


120  .     A  SINGLE  MAN 

Louise. 
"What  is  enough  for  one  is  generally  enough 
for  two — but  it's  not  enough  for  four. 

Isabella. 
[Muttering.]     I  thought  so. 

Louise. 
I  have  no  intention  of  dining  with  Mr.  Worth- 
ington.     {Rising  in  Tier  queenliest  manner.]     I 
shall  ask  Mrs.  Higson  to  serve  me  a  snack  in  my 
room. 

Isabella. 
[Calmly ',   but  firmly.]     I  shall  not  go  and 
leave  you  here,  Louise. 

Louise. 
[Reproachfully.]     You  don't  trust  me. 

[Sits  beside  Isabella. 

Isabella. 

[In  an  ironically  affectionate  tone.]  Darling 
— you  wrong  me.  I  only  meant — how  could  I 
sit  through  an  elaborate  dinner  if  I  knew  that 
my  friend  was  suffering  alone  in  her  chamber  ? 

Louise. 
That's  very  sweet  of  you.    But  think  of  poor 


A  SINGLE  MAN  1 21 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Henderson.    They  will  be  so  dis- 
appointed if  you  don't  go. 

Isabella. 
[Amiably.]    Henry  must  make  my  excuses. 

Louise. 
But  if  three  out  of  four  of  their  guests  don't 
turn  up ! 

Isabella. 

[Assuming  gaiety  and  friendliness.]  They 
won't  think  much  of  themselves,  will  they? 
[Louise  looks  away,  looking  cross.]  You  and 
I  will  have  a  nice  little  mess  of  something  all 
by  ourselves  upstairs.  It'll  be  just  like  the  dear 
old  schooldays,  when  we  used  to  have  forbidden 
feasts  in  our  bedrooms.  [She  drops  the  gay  and 
friendly  tone,  and  says,  drily.]  Is  your  head 
any  better  ? 

Louise. 
[Seeing  that  her  present  line  is  hopeless,  takes 
a  new  one,  and  says  solemnly.]     Isabella — Belle 
dear,  I  didn't  tell  you.     I  have  made  up  my 
mind  to  leave  to-morrow. 

Isabella. 
[  Unable  to  conceal  her  delight]    Not  really  ! 


122  A   SINGLE  MAN 

Louise. 
[Pained.']     I  know  you  wish  it. 

Isabella. 
[Politely  0]    Not  on  my  own  account. 

Louise. 
As  I  am  leaving  to-morrow,  I  should  like  to 
stay  at  home  this  evening. 

Isabella. 
[Suspiciously.]    To  say  good-bye  to  Kobin  ? 

Louise. 
[Coldly.]    To  pack. 

Isabella. 
[Eagerly.]     Pll  help  you  with  your  packing. 

Louise. 

Thank  you,  dear;  but  I  never  can  pack  if 
there's  any  one  in  the  room.   • 

Isabella. 
I'll  sit  on  the  landing  and  be  ready  when 
you  want  me. 

Louise. 
[Losing   her  temper  and    rising    abruptly.] 
Don't  be  such  a  fool. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  12$ 

Isabella. 
You  needn't  think  I  don't  see  through  you. 

Louise. 
What  d'you  mean  ? 

Isabella. 
I  don't  believe  you  have  the  slightest  inten- 
tion of  leaving  to-morrow. 

Louise. 
Do  you  think  I'm  a  liar  ? 

Isabella. 
[Cheerfully.']     Yes. 

Louise. 
How  dare  you  say  such  a  thing  ? 

Isabella. 
As  if  I  don't  know  what  you  are  up  to. 

Louise. 
[Defiantly.']    What    am    I    up  to — as  you 
term  it  ? 

Isabella. 
Do  you  want  me  to  tell  you  7 

Louise. 
[Haughtily.]     Certainly. 


t24  A   SINGLE  MAN 

Isabella. 

As  soon  as  Henry  and  I  have  left  the  house 
you'll  rush  upstairs  and  put  on  a  tea-gown — 
the  white  one  most  likely,  with  the  angel- 
sleeves — and  then — when  you  have  calculated 
that  Robin  will  just  about  have  begun  his  dinner 
— you'll  come  floating  in.  You  won't  have  had 
any  dinner.  He'll  feel  obliged  to  ask  you  to 
share  his.  You'll  refuse  at  first — if  you  think 
you  stand  any  chance  of  being  pressed — then 
you'll  sit  down.  You  will  begin  the  conversa- 
tion by  telling  him  that  Maggie  doesn't  appre- 
ciate him.  That  I  believe  is  the  usual  opening 
with  those  who  attempt  to  make  discord  between 

lovers 

Louise. 

[Exploding  with  wrath.']  Isabella,  you're  a 
beast. 

Isabella. 

[  With  great  determination.']  You  shan't  stay 
here  alone  with  Robin  because  I  won't  allow  it. 

Louise. 
[Changing  her  tactics,   turns   to  Isabella 
and  says  calmly  and  seriously.]     He  asked  me 
to  remain„ 

Isabella. 
[Staring  at  Louise  in  amazement]     He  asked 
you.     .     .     . 


A  SINGLE  MAN  1 25 

Louise. 

[Going  a  little  towards  Isabella.]  Not  in 
so  many  words — but  saying  he  wants  to  be  left 
alone  is  an  invitation  to  me  to  stay. 

Isabella. 
[Bursting  out  laughing.]     Louise ! 

Louise. 
I  know  it.    While  you  were  upstairs  dress- 
ing we  had  the  most  wonderful  talk. 

Isabella. 
[Immediately  sobered.]     What  about  ? 

Louise. 
It  was  not  so  much  what  we  said  as  what  we 
left  unsaid.  When  you  sent  for  me  I  asked 
him  if  he  wished  me  to  leave  him,  and  he  said 
"No."  He  begged  me  to  remain.  He  was 
longing  to  confide  in  me.  I  felt  it.  He  knows 
he  has  made  a  mistake.  He  was  just  on  the 
point  of  admitting  to  me  that  Maggie  Cottrell 
is  not  the  girl  for  him  to  marry — when  you 
came  into  the  room. 

Isabella. 
[Hardly  hnowmg  whether  to  believe  Louise 
or  not.]     I  think  it  must  be  your  imagination. 


126  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Louise. 
You  are  responsible  for  what  has  happened. 
You  invited  me  here.     You  encouraged  me  to 
fall  in  love  with  him. 

Isabella. 
There's  no  harm  done,  because  you  are  not  in 
love  with  him. 

Louise. 
I  soon  could  be.     [Isabella  turns  away.] 
Please  let  me  stay  behind. 

Isabella. 
[  With  determination.]     No. 

Louise. 
[falling  on  her  knees  in  despair  and  grasp- 
ing Isabella  by  the  hand.]     Isabella!    Isa- 
bella !     It's  a  crisis. 

Isabella. 
[  Very  uneasy  ?\     Louise  !    Louise  !     Suppose 
somebody  comes  in  !     [She  wrenches  her  hand 
away.     Louise  sinks  upon  the  ground.] 

[Miter  Mes.  Higson  who  has  a  white 
linen  table-cloth  folded  over  her  arm, 
and  a  small  tray-cloth. 

Mes.  Higson. 
The  cab's  here,  ma'am. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  1 27 

Isabella. 
Thank  you,  Mrs.   Higson.     [Mrs.  Higson 

lays  the  cloth  down  and  begins  to  gatJier  tJie 
articles  together  on  the  writing-table.  Isabella 
is  very  firm  as  she  addresses  Louise.]  Are  you 
ready  ? 

[Louise  rises  slowly  and  tragically  from 
the  ground.  Isabella  pulls  her 
to  her  feet.  Louise  slaps  her  as  & 
releases  herself.  Isabella  goes  to  the 
door,  pauses,  turns  to  Louise,  and 
beckons  her,  as  she  says  u  Louise !  " 
She  waits  till  she  sees  Louise  begin  to 
follow  her,  then  goes  out.  Louise 
pauses  at  the  door,  then  hastily  closes 
it  and  turns  to  Mrs.  Higson. 

Louise. 
By  the  way,  Mrs.  Higson,  I  may  arrive  home 
a  little  in  advance  of  the  others. 

Mrs.  Higson. 

[Stiffly, .]     Indeed ! 

Louise. 
In  case  you  should  want  to  go  to  bed  early-— 
[smiles  at  Mrs.  Higson  in  Ker  most  ingratia- 
ting manner  as  she  comes  towards  her]  is  there 
an  extra  latch-key  ? 


128  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Mes.  HlGSON". 
[Mistrustfully.']     Oh,  no,  miss — we've  got  no 
extra  latch-keys. 

Louise. 
Oh !     [Pauses.']    You  needn't  tell  anybody  I 
asked  you  for  one. 

[Mes.  Higson  makes  no  response,  "but 
busies  herself  with  the  things  on  Rob- 
in's desk.  While  she  is  doing  this 
Louise  fumbles  in  her  bag  and  takes 
out  a  ten-shilling  piece.  Louise  offers 
Mes.  Higson  the  ten-shillmg  piece 
with  her  sweetest  smile. 

Mes.  Higson. 
[Not  offering  to  take  if]     Thank  you,  miss — 
it  will  do  when  you  leave. 

Louise. 
Oh !     [She  puts  the  ten-shilling  piece  in  her 
bag,  then  goes  to  the  door,  where  she  pauses.] 
You  needn't  tell  anybody  I  offered  it  to  you. 

[Exit  Louise.  Mes.  Higson  ironically 
kisses  her  hand  after  Louise,  then  un- 
folds the  small  table-cloth,  and  lays  it 
on  Miss  Heseltine's  desk. 
[Enter  Gladys  with  a  tray  containing 
the  glass  and  silver,  etc.,  necessary  for 
Robin's  dinner. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  129 

Gladys. 
They're  off.     I  think  they  must  be  late. 

Mes.  Higson. 
What  makes  you  say  that  ?    Mr.  Burgess  is 
never  late  with  his  cab. 

Gladys. 
I  only  thought  they  might  be  because  Mrs. 
Worthington  was  that  impatient — wouldn't  get 
into  the  keb  without  Miss  Parker  got  in  first. 
Looked  as  if  there'd  'ave  bin  words  if  Captain 
Worthington  'adn't  pushed  'em  both  in  from 
be'ind. 

Mes.  Higson. 

'Elp  me  lay  this  cloth.     [They  lay  the  cloth 

together  as  she  continues^     I'm  sure  I   don't 

wonder  he  wants  to  dine  quietly  in  his  study 

after  all  the  racket  there's  been  this  afternoon. 

Gladys. 

[Grinning. ~\  They  were  playin'  'ide-an'-go- 
seek. 

Mes.  Higson. 

[Contemptuously,  as  she  smooths  the  cloth.] 
'Ide-an'-go-seek !  What  it's  going  to  be  like 
here  after  'e's  married,  I  can't  think.  Pande- 
monium, /  should  say,  with  dirt  on  all  the  car- 
pets. 


130  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Gladys. 
I  shan't  mind  the  extra  work  if  it  makes 
things  'urn  a  bit  more. 

Mrs.  Higson. 
Careful  with  that  silver. 

Gladys. 
Cook  and  I  was  only  saying  this  afternoon  it 
was  quite  refreshing  to  look  out  upon  somethin' 
besides  lawns  and  flowers  and  green  trees. 

Mrs.  Higson. 
You  won't  welcome  changes  so  much  when 
you  reach  my  age.  And  it's  not  as  if 
you'd  known  Mr.  Worthington  the  years  / 
'ave.  And  per'aps  you  'aven't  got  the  maternal 
instinct. 

Gladys. 
\Prvrrdy.']    No,  I  'aven't — an'  I  'ope  I  won't 
'ave  before  I  get  my  marriage  lines. 

Mrs.  Higson. 
I  think  that's  everything  now. 

{Enter    Kobin.     fte    wears    a   dinner- 
jacket  and  a  black  tie. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  131 

Kobin. 

[Speaking  as  he  enters.]    I'll  have  my  dinner 
as  soon  as  it's  ready. 

[He  takes  a  book  from  the  bookshelves. 


Mrs.  Higson. 
Gladys !    Tell  cook.  [Exit  Gladys. 

[The  front    door    bell    rings.     Kobin 
pauses  and  listens. 

Kobin. 
Who's  that  ? 

Mrs.  Higson. 
Post  most  likely.    What  will  you  take  to 
drink,  sir? 

Kobin. 
I  think  I  could  do  with  some  champagne. 

Mrs.  Higson. 
Yes,  sir. 

Kobin. 
A  small  bottle. 


1 32  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Mes.  Higson. 
Yes,  sir. 

[i&»£  Mes.  Higson.  Robin  settles  him- 
self to  read.  Gladys  comes  in  carry- 
ing a  roll  of  typewritten  manuscript. 

Gladys. 
If  you  please,  sir — with  Miss  'Eseltine's  com- 
pliments. [She  holds  out  the  roll  to  Robin. 

ROBIN. 

[Takvng  it.]     Is  Miss  Heseltine  here  ? 
Gladys. 


Just  gorn,  sir. 
Kun  after  her. 


Robin. 


Gladys. 
Yes,  sir.  [She  hurries  to  the  door. 

Robin. 
No,  don't. 

Gladys. 
No,  sir. 

[Exit  Gladys.  Robin  spends  a  moment 
or  two  in  indecision,  looks  at  the  roll 
of  manuscript,  leaves  it  on  the  settee, 
rises,  crosses    to  Miss   Heseltine's 


A  SINGLE  MAN  133 

desk  and  lays  his  hook  upon  it ;  tlien 
he  goes  to  the  window,  and  draws  the 
hack  curtain.  He  opens  the  window 
and  looks  out. 

Kobin. 

[Calling — not  loudly. .]     Miss  Heseltine ! 

[After  a  moment  or  two  Miss  Heseltine 
appears  at  the  window.  She  wears  a 
long,  loose,  ready-made  coat,  a  cheap, 
ordinary-looking  hat,  and  makes,  alto- 
gether, a  somewhat  dowdy  appearance. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[  Coming  just  inside  the  room.']     Did  you  wish 
to  speak  to  me  ? 

[They  are  hoth  embarrassed  and  con- 
strained when  they  meet.  Miss  Hesel- 
tine's  manner  is  extremely  prim,  to 
cover  her  nervousness. 

Eobin. 
[Referring  to  the  roll  of  manuscript  in  his 
hand,  which  he  takes  from  the  settee.]    What's 
this  thing  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
The  American  article.     I  thought  you  might 
like  to  look  it  over  before  it  goes. 

Kobin. 
Why  didn't  you  bring  it  in? 


134  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  didn't  wish  to  disturb  you. 

Robin. 

I  see — thank  you — well [Looking  at 

Miss  Heseltine.]     You  know  if  it's  all  right. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  can  guarantee  there  are  no  mistakes  in  it 
now. 

Robin. 

[Giving  her  the  roll  of  manuscript.}    Let  it 
go  then. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I'll  take  it  home  and  put  it  up  for  post. 

[She  is  going. 

Robin. 
You  might  as  well  do  that  here — at  your 
desk. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Hesitating  a  moment,  she  glances  at  him,  and 
then  says.]     Yery  well — as  I'm  here.     [Coming 
to  her  desk.']      It  won't  take  me  but  a  few 
minutes. 

[She  sits  at  her  desk,  opens  a  drawer  and 
takes  out  a  large  envelope  in  which  she 
places  the  American  article.     She  does 


A  SINGLE  MAN  1 35 

this  with  a  good  deal  of  fumbling  and 
fluttering  of  papers,  owing  to  her  nerv- 
ousness. 

KOBIN. 

You  must  have  worked  very  hard  to  get  that 
ready. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[  Without  looking  up.]    It  all  had  to  be  re- 
written. 

Kobin. 
I  hope  you  haven't  gone  without  your  dinner. 
[Miss  Heseltine  begins  to  address  the  envelope, 
apparently  not  having  heard  his  last  remark.] 
You  have  dined— haven't  you  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Still  addressing  the  envelope  and  not  looking 
up.]    Not  yet. 

EOBIN. 

Are  you  going  to  have  some  dinner  now  f 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  shan't  have  time.     I'm  due  at  an  evening 
party. 

Kobin. 

A  dinner  party  ? 


136  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Oh,  no— only  games. 

Kobin. 
You  won't  get  any  dinner. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
There'll  be  light  refreshments  handed  round 
most  likely. 

[She  stamps  the  envelope. 

KOBIN. 

[A  little  embarrassed  and  shy  at  giving  the 
invitation.']  Look  here !  I'm  having  a  bit  of 
beefsteak  by  myself,  and  Mrs.  Higson  is  so  con- 
vinced I  don't  eat  enough,  she  always  gives  me 
twice  as  much  as  I  can  manage.  Won't  you 
stay  and  share  it  with  me  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Quickly  and  nervously  as  she  rises.]     Oh, 
no,  thank  you — I  can't  do  that. 

Kobin. 
You'd  much  better.    You  can  go  to  the  even- 
ing party  afterwards. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Quite  impossible.    Thank  you  all  the  same. 
[She  goes  towards  the  window. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  1 37 

KoBIN. 
\Govag  after  her.]    I  shall  be  wretchedly 
lonely  all  by  myself.    [Miss  HmmuTiNE  pauses 
and  looks  at  him.]     You'd  be  doing  me  a  kind- 
ness if  you'd  stay. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  don't  think  I'd  better. 

Kobin. 
You  won't  enjoy  your  party  if  you  don't  eat 
something  first. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I'm  not  expecting  to  enjoy  it  much,  anyhow. 

Kobin. 
7"  shan't  enjoy  my  steak  if  you  go  hungry  to 
your  party. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Won't  you  ? 

Kobin. 
[Trying  to  make  her  sorry  for  him.]    No. 
[A  pause.]    Nor  my  tomatoes. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Keally? 


138  A  SINGLE  MAN 

ROBIN. 

Really. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Then  I'll  stay — just  a  very  few  moments. 

Robin. 
[Smiling.']  That's  right.  [He  draws  the  cur- 
tain over  the  window.  Enter  Mes.  Higson 
with  a  dish  containing  a  steak  and  tomatoes. 
Robin  speaks  as  Mrs.  Higson  enters.]  Set  a 
place  for  Miss  Heseltine.  She's  going  to  have 
some  dinner  with  me. 

Mrs.  Higson. 
Yes,  sir.     [Mrs.  Higson  neitlier  shows  nor 
feels  any  surprise  when  she  hears  that  Miss 
Heseltine    is   going  to  dine  with  Robin.] 
We'd  better  cook  you  something  extra,  sir. 

Robin. 
I  expect  there's  enough  here.     [He  raises  the 
dish  cover  to  see.]     Oh,  yes,  quite. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  don't  think  I  can  stay — really ! 

Robin. 
Oh,  yes,  you  can !    [To  Mrs.  Higson.]    A 
place  for  Miss  Heseltine. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  1 39 

Mrs.  Higson. 
Yes,  sir. 

{Exit  Mrs.  Higson. 
Robin. 
[Smiling  at  the  dish  and  talcing  a  long  miff.] 
Smells  good — doesn't  it  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Glancing  longingly  at  the  dish.]  Delicious ! 
But  what  about  this  ?  [She  holds  up  the  envel- 
ope in  her  hand.]  I  think  I'd  better  take  it  to 
the  post.  I  could  slip  it  in  the  letter-box  on 
my  way  to  the  party. 

Robin. 
[Taking  the  envelope  out  of  her  hand.]  I'll 
send  somebody  with  that.  [He  throws  the  en- 
velope down.]  "Won't  you  take  your  things  off  ? 
[He  brings  a  chair  to  the  table.  When  he  has 
done  this,  he  stands  with  his  hands  on  the  back 
of  the  chair,  watching  Miss  Heseltine  take 
tier  things  off.  Miss  Heseltine  takes  off  her 
hat.  Her  hair  is  prettily  arranged,  quite  differ' 
ent  from  the  usual  plain  style  in  which  she 
wears  it.  She  next  takes  off  her  coat  and  places 
it  on  the  chair  with  her  hat.  When  she  has 
taken  off  her  coat  she  appears  in  a  pretty,  but 
simple  and  modest  evening  dress,  in  which  she 
looks  altogether  charming.  Robin  cannot  con- 
ceal his  pleasure  in  her  unexpected  appearance.] 


140  A  SINGLE  MAN 

I've  never  seen  you  in  an  evening  dress  before. 
[Enter  Mrs.  Higson  with  t/ie  extra  glasses, 
plates,  knives,  forks,  etc.,  etc.,  necessary  for  Miss 
Heseltine,  a  small  bottle  of  champagne  and  a 
cork-screw.  Robin  opens  the  bottle  of  champagne 
indicating  the  envelope  containing  the  American 
article  as  he  says  to  Mrs.  Higson.]  Will  you 
have  that  thing  sent  to  the  post  at  once  ? 

Mrs.  Higson. 
Yes,  sir.  [Picks  up  the  envelope. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Murmuring,     half-fascinated     and     half- 
alarmed^     Champagne ! 

Robin. 
Now  then,  Miss  Heseltine,  are  you  ready  ? 
[Robin  sits  behind  the  table.  Miss  Heseltine 
sits  at  the  end  of  it.  Robin  speaks  next  as  Mrs. 
Higson  takes  off  the  dish-cover.']  I  told  you 
she  always  gives  me  much  more  than  I  can 
eat. 

[Smiles  at  Mrs.  Higson,  who  smilingly 
goes  off  with  the  dish-cover  and  the 
envelope. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  only  want  a  very  little  corner. 

Robin. 
[Gutting  apiece  off  the  steak.]     Like  that  ? 


A  SINGLE  MAN  141 

Miss  Heseltine. 
It's  too  much ! 

Eobin. 
Nonsense  !    Tomato  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Yes,  please.     [He  serves  her.]     Thank  you ! 
[Then  he  helps  himself. 

EOBIN. 

I  hope  you  won't  find  it  too  underdone. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Oh,  no,  thank  you  ;  I  prefer  it  underdone. 

Eobin. 
How  fortunate  we  both  like  our  meat  cooked 
the   same  way.     [Eobin   offers  to  pour  some 
champagne    into    Miss    Heseltine's    glass.] 
May  I  give  you  some  champagne  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[In  a  flurry,  not  able  to  make  up  her  mind 
whether  to  accept  champagne  or  not]     Oh — I 
don't  know — no,  I  don't  think  so,  thank  you. 

Eobin. 
Just  a  drop.  [He  pours  it  out. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Is  it  nice  ? 


142  A  SINGLE  MAN 

KOBIN. 

[Filling  his  own  glass.]    You  know  what  it's 
like. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
No,  I  don't.    I  never  tasted  it. 

Eobin. 
[Surprised.]    Never  tasted  champagne  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
No. 

KOBIN. 

How's  that? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Quite  a  lot  of   people  have  never  tasted 
champagne. 

Kobin. 
Think  of  that,  now.  [He  takes  a  good  long 
drink.  Miss  Heseltine  watches  him  with 
curiosity,  then  raises  her  own  glass  to  her  lips, 
frowning  as  she  takes  a  little  sip.  Kobin 
watches  her  with  an  amused  smile  till  she  takes 
the  glass  away  from  her  lips.]     Do  you  like  it  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Her  frown  relaxing  slowly  into  a  beaming 
smile.]     Yes. 


A   SINGLE  MAN  143 

[From  here  on  she  becomes  much  more  at 
home  and  quite  natural  and  easy  in 
her  manner. 

Robin. 
[Eating.]     I   begin  to  feel  better  now.     I 
was  nearly  dead  after  those  children  had  gone 
home. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Also  eating.]     I'm  not  surprised. 

Robin. 
[Smilmg.]  I  adore  their  youth  and  their 
vigour ;  the  movements  of  their  strong  straight 
limbs ;  their  shouts  and  their  bright,  pretty 
faces.  Enchanting !  [  With  a  sigh.]  But  it's 
no  use  trying  to  be  one  of  them  after  forty. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
It's  a  change  to  be  dining  like  this. 

Robin. 
Such  a  picnic. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  mean,  it's  a  change  from  high  tea. 

Robin. 
[Smiling  at  her.]     How  different  you  look 
this  evening ! 


144  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Miss  Heseltine. 
It's  because  I'm  dressed  up.     You've  always 
seen  me  in  workaday. 

Robin. 
Your  hair  looks  so  pretty.     I  never  noticed 
before  that  your  hair  was  so  pretty. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Pleased.]     My  hair  is  my  best  feature. 

Robin. 
Do  you  often  go  to  parties  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 

Oh,  no — very  seldom.  I  have  such  a  limited 
circle  of  acquaintances  in  Farnham.  I  don't 
get  much  chance  of  meeting  people,  for  one 
thing ;  and,  living  alone,  the  way  I  do,  I  need 
to  be  cautious.  It's  very  easy  to  find  oneself 
swallowed  up  in  the  wrong  set  before  one 
knows  it. 

Robin. 

[  With  deep  meaning,  thinhmg  of  the  Cottrells.'] 
Yery !  I  suppose  you'll  go  to  plenty  of  parties 
when  you  live  in  London. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  don't  expect  to.    I've  lived  there  before, 
you  know.     I  find  London  much  more  dead 
and  alive  than  Farnham. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  145 

ROBIN. 
[Amazed.]     London  dead  and  alive  ! 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Yes. 

ROBIN. 

I  left  because  it's  so  noisy. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
You  had  your  friends  and  your  telephone.  I 
only  had  a  bed-sitting  room.  I  scarcely  ever 
went  out  with  any  one  except  my  landlady,  and 
not  very  often  with  her.  We  occasionally  did 
a  pit  if  we  felt  flush. 

Robin. 
[Sympathetically.]     Is  that  the  kind  of  life 
you  have  to  look  forward  to  now  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 

[Simply.]     Yes. 

Robin. 
You've  lived  by  yourself  a  long  time  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Ever  since  father  married  again. 

Robin. 
[Gloomily.]     When  Fm  married,  I  suppose 
there'll  be  jolly  tennis  parties  and  gaiety  and 


I46  A  SINGLE  MAN 

fun  every  day  of  the  week.  [He  looks  at  her.] 
I  wonder  what  is  to  become  of  me  and  my  work 
when  you  go  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Troubled.]     I  don't  believe  I  could  stay  on. 

[She  sits  back. 

KOBIN. 

[Nervously.]     No. 

Miss  Heselttne. 
It  wouldn't  do. 

Eobin. 
No.     [lie  lays  his  knife  and  fork  toget/ter, 
and  assumes  a  businesslike  manner.]      Have 
you  finished  ? 

Miss  Heselttoe. 
Yes,  thank  you. 

[She  lays  her  knife  and  fork  together. 

Kobin. 

I   don't   think  we   need  ring  the  bell.     Pll 
change  the  plates.  [He  rises  to  do  so. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Rising  and  speaking  as  if  she  were  asking 
him  a  favour?^     Let  me. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  1 47 

KOBIN. 
Oh,  no ;  I'll  do  it. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  should  like  to.     Please  sit  down  and  let  me 
— let  me  wait  upon  you. 

Robin. 
[Humouring  her.]     Very  well.  [He  sits. 

Miss  Heseltine. 

[Taking  his  plate  as  she  says,  smilmg.]  "  It 
was  Sunday  evening,  and  both  the  servants  had 
gone  to  church  ;  so,  as  their  custom  was  on  these 
occasions,  they  waited  on  themselves." 

Robin. 
What's  that  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
A  quotation  out  of  one  of  your  books. 

Robin. 
Which  one  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
It  never  had  a  name.     You  began  it  about 
four  years  ago,  and  tore  it  up  after  the  second 
chapter. 

Robin. 
What  a  memory  you  have ! 


148  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Yes,  for  some  things. 

[While  this  conversation  is  going  on 
Miss  Heseltine  changes  the  dishes 
andjplates. 

Kobin. 
It  doesn't  seem  right  for  me  to  be  sitting 
here  while  you  do  the  waiting. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
It  pleases  me. 

Kobin. 
I  never  thought  of  waiting  at  table  being  a 
pleasure. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Standing  near  him  with  a  dish  in  her  hands.] 
It  is,  if  you  know  how  to  dream. 

Kobin. 
[J^ot  comprehending — echoes.]     To  dream  ! 

Miss  Heseltine. 
More  than  half  a  woman's  life  is  made  of 
dreams.     She  couldn't  bear  it  otherwise. 

[She  places  the  dish  on  the  table. 

Eobhst. 
What's  the  good  of  a  dream  ? 


A  SINGLE  MAN  149 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[  With  suppressed  exaltation.']  Sometimes  it 
grows  so  vivid  it  almost  seems  to  have  come 
true.  [She  gives  a  low-toned  little  laugh  as  she 
looks  towards  her  desk.  Robin  looks  at  her  and 
follows  the  direction  of  her  eyes.]  That's  my 
desk  that  I  work  at — our  sideboard  is.  [She 
goes  to  her  desk.  Robin  watches  her,  smiling. 
She  carries  the  dish  of  fruit  and  two  plates  to 
the  table,  and  places  them  in  front  of  him.]  I 
shall  never  be  able  to  believe  this  really  hap- 
pened afterwards.  [She  returns  to  her  place  as 
she  says.]  I  expect  I  shall  be  trying  to  remem- 
ber what  story  it  was,  where  we  dined  together. 
Whenever  you  dictate  a  novel  to  me  I  always 
imagine  that  I'm  the  heroine. 

Robin. 
[Offering  to  refill  her  glass.]     Let  me  give 
you  some  more  champagne  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Putting  her  hand  over  her  glass.]    No,  thank 
you.     [Gravely.]     They  tell  me  it  makes  one 
chatter. 

Robin. 
Please  chatter.    I  want  to  know  more  about 
you — [handing  her  fruit]  what  you  think,  what 
you  feel,  what  you  are  like,  what  you  do  with 


150  A   SINGLE  MAN 

yourself  when  you  are  away  from  me.     Though 
I've  known  you  so  well  for — how  long  is  it  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Promptly.']     Five  years  last  first  of  June. 

Kobin. 
And  how  many  hours  in  all  that  time  have  we 
spent  alone  in  this  room  together  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Joyfully.]     So  many   we  couldn't  possibly 
count  them  up. 

Kobin. 
And  yet,  after  all  that,  I  am  only  just  be- 
ginning to  get  to  know  you.    Why  did  you 
never  tell  me  about  yourself  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
You  never  asked. 

Kobin. 
I  wonder  why. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
You  were  always  working. 

Eobin. 
[After  a  moment's  reflection.]    What  a  lot  of 
time  one  wastes  attending  to  one's  work.    [They 


A  SINGLE  MAN  151 

go  on  eating  before  Robin  says.]  I  suppose 
I'm  always  thinking  about  myself  and  my  own 
things. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Kindly.]  That's  only  because  you  are  a 
man.  [He  laughs.  She  becomes  a  little  con- 
fused.'] Though  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  why  I 
should  be  talking  as  if  I  knew  all  about  it.  I've 
never  known  any  man  well  with  the  exception 
of  you  and  father. 

Robin. 
Will  you  tell  me  about  your  father  ? 

[He  takes  a  cigarette-case  from  his  pocket. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I'd  rather  not.  I  was  very  unhappy  at  home 
— and  to-night  I  want  to  forget  all  painful 
things.  I  am  weaving  a  wonderful  memory  for 
the  lonely  evenings  to  come.  [Robin  sighs.] 
You  want  a  light  for  your  cigarette.  Wait 
there,  I'll  get  you  one. 

[Miss  Heseltine  goes  to  the  mantel- 
piece for  a  match,  which  she  strikes, 
then  holds  while  he  lights  his  cigarette. 
Robin  offers  her  his  cigarette-case. 

Robin. 
Will  you  have  a  cigarette  ? 


152  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Miss  Heseltlnte. 
[Primly, .]    Oh,  no,  thank  you — I  don't  think 
I'll  go  as  far  as  that. 

[She  returns  to  her  place  at  the  table. 

BOBIN. 

[After  a  pause.']     How  restful  you  are ! 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Will  you  always  think  of  me  so  ?    I  should 
like  you  to  think  of  me,  after  I'm  gone,  a  little 
differently  from  anybody  else. 

Eobin. 
I    can   promise  you  that.     [He  smokes  in 
silence  a  moment  before  he  says  gloomily.']     It 
gets  worse  and  worse  the  more  I  think  of  it. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
What  does  ? 

Kobin. 
Your  going  away.  I  don't  see  how  we  shall 
ever  get  through  when  it  comes  to  the  last  day 
— our  last  morning's  work.  It's  so  sad  doing 
anything  the  last  time  if  it's  something  one  has 
done  regularly  every  day  for  a  long  time. 

Miss  Heseltiste. 
I  remember  when  I  left  home — the  last  Sun- 
day evening  we  sang  a  hymn.    We  always  sang 


A   SINGLE  MAN  I$3 

a  hymn  on  Sunday  evening — the  same  hymn. 
I  was  so  sick  of  it.  I  used  to  have  to  play  the 
tune.  I  thought  I  should  be  so  glad  never  to 
have  to  do  it  any  more ;  but  when  it  came  to 
doing  it  the  last  time,  I  couldn't  see  the  notes. 
I  couldn't  see  the  words,  I  couldn't  see  the 
others — I  was  crying  so. 

Robin. 
I  shan't  know  what  has  become  of  you.    You 
might   be  unhappy  or  badly  off,  for  all  that 
/  shall  know. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  might  write  perhaps — now  and  again. 

Robin. 
[Sadly.']     Letters!     Once    a  week,    once    a 
month,  two  or  three  times  a  year.     I  shall 
want  to  see  you  every  day. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  shall  want  to  see  you,  too. 

[They  look  at  each  other  steadily  for  some 
time  before  he  speaks. 

Robin. 
You  look  as  you  looked  this  afternoon.    It's 
a  wonderful  look.     I  have  never  seen  it  in  a 
woman's  eyes   before.     [He  pulls  himself  to- 


154  A  SINGLE  MAN 

gether,  disgusted  with  himself.]     I'm  ashamed — 
I'm  ashamed  to  have  said  that. 

[He  rises  from  the  table- 
Miss  Heseltine. 
[Also  risen — very  gently  and  kindly.]  Don't 
be  ashamed.  I'm  glad  you  know  I  love  you. 
[Robin  turns  and  looks  at  her.]  You've  taken 
it  so  kindly,  I  feel  as  if  a  great  load  had  been 
lifted  off  my  heart.  I've  been  set  free — after 
years  of  oppression.  The  pain  it  has  been  to 
keep  my  secret  all  to  myself.  Like  a  child,  I 
had  no  right  to,  I  hugged  it  and  hid  it — fearful 
lest  some  one  should  discover  it,  and  I  should 
be  disgraced.  And  now  you — of  all  people — 
have  found  me  out,  and  I'm  not  humiliated — 
I'm  happy.  Though  I  know  that  to-morrow  is 
coming,  to-night  I  can  only  feel — how  good  it 
is  for  me  that  you  should  know. 

Robin. 
[Slowly ',  quietly,  and  impressively. .]  It  seems 
to  me  now  as  if  I  had  always  known.  So  si- 
lently and  steadily  your  influence  has  grown,  it 
possessed  me  unawares.  [Speaking  with  sudden, 
passionate  energy.]  I've  made  a  dreadful 
blunder.  I'm  terrified  of  my  future.  I  can't 
face  it !  [Miss  Heseltine  sits  on  the  settee. 
He  moves  about  as  he  speaks  rapidly  and  ex- 
citedly.]    I  was  content  the  way  we  went  on 


A  SINGLE  MAN  1 55 

till  Henry  and  Isabella  came.  It  was  seeing 
them — their  happiness,  their  affection,  their 
kisses,  and  caresses.  I  determined  to  marry 
and  be  happy,  as  they  are.  I  looked  about  me 
for  a  wife,  thought  of  all  the  girls  I  knew — all 
except  one.  You  were  so  near  at  hand,  and 
I  was  looking  out  into  the  world.  I  was 
caught  and  carried  away  by  the  snares  of  the 
charm  of  youth.  I  only  see  you  in  my  work- 
time — always  quiet,  always  patient,  always 
ready,  and  never  exacting.  I  took  all  that  as 
a  matter  of  course — selfishly  accepted  it.  How 
dull  of  me  never  to  have  thought — what  won- 
derful qualities  those  in  a  woman  !  [Speaking 
like  a  lover,  as  he  sits  on  the  settee  beside  her!\ 
I  have  never  seen  you  as  you  are  to-night. 
[Miss  Heseltine  rises  slowly  and  steps  back 
from  him,  fascinated,  but  afraid.  He  goes  on 
passionately.']  I  ought  to  be  holding  my 
tongue,  stifling  my  heart  as  you  did  yours ;  but 
to-night  I  can't  any  more  than  you  can.  I 
can't  marry  Maggie;  it's  not  possible.  She's 
dear,  she's  sweet,  she's  lovely ;  but  she's  a 
child.  She  knows  nothing,  feels  notjaing,  un- 
derstands nothing.  She  has  no  soul,  and  very 
little  heart.  If  I  marry  Maggie,  I  shall  be 
finished,  destroyed,  done'  for.  And  now— now 
that  I  know  that  I  love  you  and  that  you  love 
me  !     [Helplessly.']    What  are  we  to  do  ? 

[They  stand  looking  helplessly  at  each 


156  A  SINGLE  MAN 

other  ;  then  by  a  mutual  instinct  go 
towards  each  other,  and  fall  into  each 
others  arms.  They  remain  some 
moments  locked  in  a  close  embrace. 
The  curtains  over  the  windows  are 
parted.  Louise  is  there.  She  has 
time  to  stand  and  take  in  the  situation 
before  they  discover  her  presence. 
Louise  advances  into  the  room,  then 
moves  slowly  and  haughtily  to  the 
door,  observing  the  dinner-table  as  she 
passes  it.  Robin  and  Miss  Hesel- 
tine  watch  her,  dumbfounded.  Lou- 
ise goes  out.  Miss  Heseltine  turns 
and  looks  at  Robin,  then  covers  her 
face  with  her  hands. 


THE  CUETAIN  COMES  SLOWLY  DOWN 


THE  FOURTH  ACT 

SCENE.— Kobin's  study  again.  It  is  ten  o'clock 
in  the  morning  on  the  day  after  the  events 
of  the  last  two  acts.  KoBIN  is  seated  at  his 
writing-table,  his  head  on  his  hands.  Enter 
Lady  Cottrell.  Kobin  rises  when  she 
enters. 

Lady  Cottrell. 
My  husband  has  had  a  note  from  you  asking 
him  to  come  and  see  you — so  I  came. 

Kobin. 
[  Worried.]  Oh,  but  I  want  most  particularly 
to  see  Sir  Richard.  That's  why  I  asked  him 
to  call  on  me  instead  of  going  to  call  on  him 
because — well,  you  know  what  it's  like  at  your 
house.  There's  no  privacy.  Dickie  or  Maggie 
or  one  of  the  others  is  apt  to  burst  into  the 
room  at  any  moment.  I  must  see  Sir  Kichard 
undisturbed.  It's  most  important.  I  think  I'll 
run  over  and  see  him  now — if  you'll  excuse  me. 
{He  picks  up  a  newspaper  and  thrusts  it  into 
Lady  Cottrell's  hands.]  There's  the  paper. 
I'll  send  Isabella  to  you  to  keep  you  company. 

[Exit  Kobin,  quickly. 

157 


I58  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Lady  Cotteell. 
{Looking  after  Bobin  in  surprise.']     Odd ! 
[Isabella  enters  followed  by  Heney. 

Isabella. 
[Speaking    as    she    enters.]      Good-morning, 
Lady  Cottrell. 

Lady  Cotteell. 
[Nods  unceremoniously  to  them  both  without 
rising  or  offering  to  shake  hands.]     Good-morn- 
ing, good-morning.     What's  the  matter  ? 

Isabella. 

Nothing. 

Heney. 

Why? 

Lady  Cotteell. 
[To  Heney.]     I  thought  from  your  brother's 
strange  manner  that  something  must  have  hap- 
pened since  I  saw  you  yesterday. 

Heney. 
[Looking  at  Isabella.]     Not  that  I  know  of. 

Isabella. 
Nothing  unusual. 

Heney. 
We  dined  at  the  Hendersons'  last  evening. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  1 59 

Lady  Cotteell. 
Nothing  else  ? 

Isabella. 
[Looking  at  Heney.]    No. 

Heney. 
Miss  Parker  had  a  headache  and  left  the 
party  early.  When  we  got  home  she  had  gone 
to  bed;  so  we  went  to  bed,  too — and — that's 
about  all.  We  got  up  and  had  breakfast  as 
usual  this  morning. 

Lady  Cotteell. 
Nothing  of  any  importance. 

Isabella. 
[Seriously.']    Baby  was  rather  fretful  in  the 
night. 

Lady  Cotteell. 
[Contemptuously.']     You  won't  call  that  im- 
portant when  you've  got  fourteen. 

[Enter  Louise.  She  enters  quickly,  and 
with  such  an  air  of  having  something 
important  to  tell  that  she  attracts  all 
their  attention.  They  watch  her  as  she 
closes  the  door  and  comes  down  among 
them. 


160  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Louise. 
I   waited  till  Mr.   Worthington   went  out. 
There  is  something  I  think  you  all  ought  to 
know.     Sit  down. 

[She  pushes  Isabella  into  a  chair  and 
waves  the  others  to  their  seats. 


Lady  Cotteell. 
I  knew  there  was  something. 

[They  watch  Louise  expectantly, 

Louise. 
Last  night,  when  I  left  the  Hendersons'  [to 
Lady  Cotteell]  I  came  away  before  the 
others.  I  had  a  headache.  [To  Isabella.] 
You  remember.  [Addressing  them  all.']  I 
slipped  away  without  a  word,  not  wishing  to 
make  a  fuss.  I  got  my  cloak  and  when  I  came 
out  at  their  front  door  I  was  fortunate  enough 
to  find  a  cab.  [To  Isabella.]  The  one  that 
brought  that  man  who  came  after  dinner. 
[Addressing  them  all.]  I  told  the  cabman  to 
drive  me  to  this  gate,  where  I  got  out.  [To 
Lady  Cotteell.]  It  was  such  a  fine  moon- 
light night  I  thought  I  should  like  to  walk 
up  the  drive.  When  I  got  near  the  house  I 
heard  sounds  of  revelry — [she  looks  round  from 
one  to  the  other  expecting  to  make  a  great  effect; 


A  SINGLE  MAN  l6l 

they  watch  her  with  unmoved  faces  during 
the  whole  of  her  recital']  issuing  from  this 
window — sounds  of  revelry.  [Site  looks  round 
at  them  all  again.]  I  naturally  thought 
it  rather  strange,  so  I  stopped  outside 
the  window  and  listened.  I  thought  it  might 
be  the  servants  taking  advantage  of  our 
absence.  Not  at  all.  I  distinctly  heard  two 
voices — Mr.  Worthington's  and  a  woman's. 
[She  looks  from  one  to  the  other  as  before 
expecting  to  make  an  effect — they  all  move  for- 
ward slightly^  I  was  just  going  to  pass  on 
when  a  little  gust  of  wind  blew  the  curtains 
apart.  There  was  nothing  for  me  to  do  then 
but  to  walk  into  the  room.  I  hardly  like  to 
tell  you  what  I  saw — but  I  must.  It's  a  duty. 
The  table  was  all  in  disorder  as  if  two  people 
had  been  feasting  together.  I  remember  no- 
ticing a  champagne  bottle — empty.  The  next 
thing  I  saw  was — Miss  Heseltine — the  type- 
writer— in  an  evening  dress.  She  was  in  Mr. 
Worthington's  arms.  They  were  kissing  each 
other. 

[She  looks  round  at  them  all  trium- 
phantly expecting  to  make  a  sensation. 
She  apparently  makes  no  effect  of  any 
kind.  They  sit  still  gravely  for  some 
moments  before  Lady  Cottrell 
speaks. 


1 62  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Lady  Cottrell. 
[  With  perfect  composure^    I  don't  believe  a 
word  of  it. 

Isabella. 
Nor  do  I. 

Henry. 
Nor  I. 

Louise. 
{Annoyed  at  the  reception  of  her  story.]     But 
I  saw  it. 

Lady  Cottrell. 
Dreamt  it !    Robin  and  his  typist — I  no  more 
believe  it  than  if  you'd  told  me  you'd  caught 
Captain  Worthington  there  kissing  me. 

Isabella. 
[In  dismay  at  the  thought  of  such  a  thing.'] 
Oh! 

Louise. 
If  you  don't  believe  me,  ask  the  servants. 
They  can  tell  you  whether  Miss  Heseltine  dined 
here  or  not. 

Lady  Cottrell. 
Why  shouldn't  Miss  Heseltine   dine  here? 
[To  Henry.]    Do  you  see  any  reason  why  she 
shouldn't? 


A  SINGLE  MAN  1 63 

Henry. 
No  reason  on  earth. 

Lady  Cottrell. 
[To  Louise.]    We  none  of  us  see  any  reason 
against  it. 

Isabella. 
They  probably  had  some  business  to  discuss. 

Louise. 
They  were  drinking  champagne. 

Henry. 

Why  shouldn't  they  drink  champagne  ? 

Isabella. 
We  drank  it  ourselves  at  the  Hendersons'. 

Lady  Cottrell. 
[ To  Henry  cmd  Isabella.]    She  seems  to 
think  it's  immoral  to  drink  champagne. 

Louise. 
The  woman  was  decollete. 

Lady  Cottrell. 
[To  Louise.]    Is  it  the  fashion  where  you 
come  from  to  dme  high  neck  ? 

Louise. 
Oh! 


1 64  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Isabella. 
[To  Lady  Cotteell.]    I  think  Louise  has 
gone  mad. 

Henby. 
[To  Lady  Cotteell,  on  the  other  side.]  Try- 
ing to  find  a  queer  meaning  to  a  most  ordinary 
proceeding.     It's  monstrous ! 

Isabella. 
Disgusting ! 

Lady  Cotteell. 
Foul! 

Heney. 
If  he  mayn't  dine  quietly  with  his  secretary. 

Isabella. 
It  may  be  indiscreet. 

Lady  Cotteell. 
Don't  be  so  provincial,  Mrs.  Worthington. 
It  isn't  at  all  indiscreet.  It  might  be  for  some 
people  if  they  were  that  kind  of  person,  but  a 
serious  man  of  his  age  dining  alone  with  his 
typist  to  talk  about  his  business,  dressed  in  suit- 
able clothes  and  drinking  what  I  often  drink 
myself, — I  can't  see  anything  in  it  at  all. 

Louise. 
They  were  clasped  together  in  a  wild  em- 
brace. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  165 

Lady  Cottrell. 
That  I  refuse  to  believe. 

Henry. 
So  do  I,  absolutely. 

Isabella. 

And  so  do  I. 

Louise. 

Can't  you  see  what  it  all  means  ?  "We  were 
all  to  have  dined  at  the  Hendersons'  last  even- 
ing— we  three — and  Mr.  Worthington.  At  the 
last  moment  Mr.  Worthington  backs  out — says 
he  wishes  to  dine  alone.  We  are  packed  off. 
In  our  absence  comes  this  woman.  Not  a  word 
to  any  of  us  to  say  she  is  expected.  I  arrive 
home  early  and  find  them  in  this  most  compro- 
mising position.  And  it's  not  only  what  took 
place  last  evening.  Think  of  the  hours  and 
hours  a  day  they  spend  shut  up  in  this  room 
together. 

Henry. 

Working. 

Louise. 
[Sharply  to  him.']     How  do  we  know  what 
goes  on  ? 

[Henry    and    Isabella    exclaim   to- 
gether. 


1 66  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Henry. 
What  d'you  mean  ? 

Isabella. 
Louise! 

Louise. 
[Ignoring  their  exclamations,  turns  to  Lady 
Cottrell.]    You  surely  won't  let  your  daugh- 
ter be  engaged  to  a  man  while  he  is  carrying 
on  an  intrigue  with  another  woman. 

Isabella. 

[Indignantly, .]     Louise ! 

Henry. 

[At  the  same  time  that  Isabella  exclaims.'] 

Really,  Miss  Parker,  I 

[All  except  Lady  Cottrell  talk  at  once. 

Lady  Cottrell. 
[With  authority.']  Leave  her  to  me.  [She 
addresses  Louise  calmly  hut  witheringly.]  We 
decline  to  believe  one  word  of  your  unsupported 
testimony  against  our  friends.  You  have  told 
us  what  is  untrue.  We  know  Mr.  Worthington. 
He  is  a  man  of  exceedingly  high  character. 
As  for  Miss  Heseltine,  I  cannot  say  that  I  know 
her — but  I  have  observed  her.  She  satisfies 
me.  I  am  convinced  that  she  is  a  most  respect- 
able young  woman. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  167 

Louise. 
How  can  you  tell  by  observing  a  woman 
whether  she  is  respectable  or  not  ? 

Lady  Cottrell. 
I  can  sniff  the  difference. 

Louise. 
[To  Isabella.]    Surely  you  see 

Isabella. 
Hush,  Louise.     I'm  ashamed  of  you — trying 
to  make  a  scandal  out  of  nothing. 

Louise. 
[Excitedly.']     But  it's  true,  I  tell  you — it's 
true.     They'll  deny  it,  of  course,  and  there's  no 
one  to  support  my  word,  but  it's  true,  it's  true, 
it's  true ! 

Henry. 
[Indignantly.']    You've  said  enough  and  a 
great  deal  more  than  enough.    I  take  it  upon 
myself  in  my  brother's  absence  to  tell  you  to 
leave  the  house. 

Louise. 
Oh! 

Henry. 
How  you  can  do  such  a  thing  as  this — after 
accepting  Eobin's  hospitality — I  can't  trust  my- 


1 68  A  SINGLE  MAN 

self  to  say  what  I  think  of  your  conduct.    You 
will  please  leave  the  house  at  once. 

Louise. 
Do  you  think  I  would  consent  to  remain  one 
moment  longer  in  such  a  house  as  this  ? 

Isabella. 
Louise ! 

Louise. 
[Addressing  Isabella.]     If  you  can't  see 
what's  perfectly  plain  to  any  intelligent  person 
— that's  your  lookout. 

Lady  Cottrell. 
Hush! 

Louise. 

It  shall  never  be  said  of  me  that  I  condoned 
immorality.  I  leave  for  Leamington  immedi- 
ately— immediately. 

[Exit  Louise.  They  watch  her  go  out, 
and  then  look  at  each  other  in  amaze- 
ment. 

Lady  Cottrell. 
What  is  she  thinking  of  to  come  to  us  with 
such  a  story  ?    What  is  her  motive  ? 

Isabella. 
/know  well  enough  what  her  motive  is. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  169 

Lady  Cottrell. 


Tell  us. 


Isabella. 
Something  must  have  happened  last  night. 
He    probably  repulsed  her,  and    this  is  ner 
revenge. 

Henry. 


I  see. 
/don't. 


Lady  Cottrell. 


Henry. 
[To  Isabella.]    I  suppose  we  had  better 
tell  Lady  Cottrell  everything. 

Isabella. 
[In  a  whisper  to  Henry.]     I  don't  want  her 
to  know  why  I  invited  Louise  here. 

Henry. 
[To  Isabella.]  No.  [He  goes  toivards  Lady 
Cottrell.]  I  am  sorry  to  have  to  tell  you, 
Lady  Cottrell,  that  Miss  Parker  has  been  doing 
her  best  all  the  time  she  has  been  here  to  get 
Robin  away  from  Maggie. 

Lady  Cottrell. 
[Impressed  and  concerned.']    Indeed ! 


1 70  A   SINGLE  MAN 

Isabella. 

I've  had  the  most  dreadful  time  with  her.  I 
haven't  known  what  to  do.  Last  evening  she 
actually  told  me  she  had  had  the  most  wonder- 
ful talk  with  him,  and  that  he  had  as  good  as 
admitted  to  her  that  he  didn't  want  to  marry 
Maggie.  Of  course,  I  knew  it  wasn't  true; 
but  fancy  her  saying  such  a  thing.  And,  later 
on,  when  Robin  backed  out  of  going  to  the 
Hendersons',  she  wanted  me  to  let  her  stay  be- 
hind with  him.  But  I  wouldn't  hear  of  it.  I 
made  her  come  to  the  Hendersons'  with  us. 

Lady  Cottrell. 

She  seems  to  have  found  no  difficulty  in  out- 
witting you  when  she  got  there. 

Isabella. 

I  couldn't  keep  my  eye  on  her  all  the  time. 
She  got  out  when  I  wasn't  looking.  Then  I 
suppose  she  hurried  home,  thinking  she  would 
find  Robin  by  himself,  and  would  practice  her 
wiles  upon  him.  But,  of  course,  she  found  him 
with  Miss  Heseltine.  Then  I  should  think  that 
he  either  repulsed  her ;  or,  disappointed  at  not 
finding  him  alone,  she  became  so  enraged  she 
worked  herself  into  the  state  of  mind  in 
which  a  woman  can  make  herself  believe  any- 
thing. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  171 

Lady  Cotteell. 
I  suppose  she'll  go  and  spread  this  nasty- 
story. 

Isabella. 
I  shouldn't  wonder. 

[Enter  Robin.  He  halts  and  looks  at 
them.  He  is  serious  and  worried. 
Lady  Cottrell,  Henry,  and  Isa- 
bella watch  him  in  silence  for  a  mo- 
ment. 

Lady  Cottrell. 

[To  Henry  and  Isabella.]  I  think  we'd 
better  tell  him,  don't  you  f  [They  all  look  at 
Robin.  Robin  looks  from  one  to  the  other  for 
an  explanation.  Lady  Cottrell  still  ad- 
dresses Henry  and  Isabella.]  What  do  you 
think  ?  Shall  we  tell  him  or  not  ?  [Henry 
goes  slowly  to  Robin,  lays  his  hand  kindly  on 
his  shoulder  for  a  moment,  then  walks  away. 
Robin  watches  Henry,  wondering,  then  turns 
to  Lady  Cottrell  and  Isabella  for  an  ex- 
planation.] '  Perhaps  we  had  better  not  tell 
him  after  all. 

Isabella. 

I  think  we  shall  have  to  tell  him. 

Henry. 
I  think  so,  too.     It  appears,  Robin,  that  last 
evening 


1 72  A    SINGLE  MAN 

Isabella. 
I  can't  think  how  she  could. 

Lady  Cottrell. 
Miss  Parker  says  that  Miss  Heseltine  is  your 
mistress. 

[Robin  is  so  taken  aback  and  distressed 
he  canH  speak  for  a  moment,  hut  looks 
round  helplessly  at  the  others. 

Henry. 
[Sympathetically.']     We  don't  believe  it. 

Isabella. 
We  told  her  so. 

Robin. 
Of  course  it's  not  true.     [He  sits  at  his  desk. 
They  watch  him  anxiously.     After  a  moment  he 
looks  wp.~]     You'd  better  tell  me  what  else  she 
said. 

Henry. 
She  said  that  you  dined  here  last  evening 
alone  with  Miss  Heseltine. 

Robin. 
That's  true. 

Henry. 
And  that  you  were  drinking  champagne. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  173 

ROBIN. 

That's  true. 

Heney. 

She  also  said  that  you — that  she  saw  you 

\He  hesitates,  not  quite  knowing  how  to 
express  himself. 

Lady  Cotteell. 

Embracing. 

Robin. 

[After  a  pause.']  I  want  to  marry  Miss  Hes- 
eltine.  [They  all  look  at  Robin,  then  at  each 
other,  mute  with  surprise.  Robin  addresses 
Lady  Cotteell.]  That's  what  I  went  to  tell 
Sir  Richard.  I  didn't  see  him.  He'd  gone  out 
— so  I  may  as  well  tell  you.  I — I  find  I've 
made  a  mistake,  and  I  don't  care  for  Maggie  as 
much  as  I  thought  I  did ;  so  the  only  honourable 
thing  for  me  to  do  now  is  to  break  off  my  en- 
gagement. 

Heney. 

{Dismayed,  then  slowly  perceiving  what  he 
imagines  to  be  the  truth.']  Bravo !  {They  all 
look  at  Heney  in  surprise.]  I  call  that  mag- 
nificent. {To  Robin.]  To  sacrifice  yourself 
in  order  to  save  Miss  Heseltine's  reputation. 
It's  noble. 

Robin. 

[Bewildered.']    But 


174  ^  SINGLE  MAN 

Isabella. 
[Smiling  at  Kobin.]    It's  j  ust  like  you,  Kobin. 

KOBIN. 

But 

Lady  Cotteell. 
[Beaming  upon  him.]     Most  chivalrous ! 

Kobin. 
[To  Lady  Cotteell.]    Bu' 

Lady  Cotteell. 
[Holding  up  her  hand  to  silence  Kobin  as  she 
says.]     But  don't  forget  that  one  may  carry 
chivalry  too  far  and  become  quixotic. 

Kobin. 
You  don't  understand.     I  love  Miss  Hesel- 
tine.  [They  all  laugh  heartily. 

Lady  Cotteell. 

My  dear,  good  man — what  is  the  use  of  try- 
ing to  bluff  us  ? 

Kobin. 

[Coming  towards  Lady  Cotteell  as  he 
speaks.]  I'm  very  much  in  earnest,  Lady  Cot- 
trell.  I  realize  what  a  very  serious  matter  it  is 
to  break  off  an  engagement,  and  I  don't  for  one 
moment  want  to  underestimate  my  responsibili- 
ties— but  surely  it  is  better  to  recognize  my  mis- 
take now  instead  of  later  on. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  I75 

Lady  Cottrell. 

[Preparing  to  be  indignant.']     To  hear  you 

talk  one  would  suppose — oh — [remembering  he 

is  bluffing,  as  she  thinks]  but  of  course  you  don't 

mean  it.     [SJie  smiles  and  pats  him  on  the  arm. 

ROBIN. 

Can't  you  all  see  that  this  is  quite  a  likely 
thing  to  happen?  It's  most  unfortunate.  I 
am  much  to  blame — but  it's  not  the  first  time 
that  a  man  has  got  engaged  and  then  found  out 
that  he  loved  some  one  else. 

Isabella- 
[Sweetly.]     Robin,   dear — if    it   were  really 
true  that  you  love  Miss  Heseltine — you'd  have 
thought  of  it  before  now. 

Robin. 
That's  the  funny  thing  about  it.     I  have 
known  her  for  five  years,  and  I  never  discov- 
ered I  was  in  love  with  her  till  last  evening. 

Lady  Cottrell. 
Most  unconvincing ! 

[Lady  Cottrell  and  Isabella  laugh. 

Robin. 
[Distractedly.]     Can't  I  make  them  under- 
stand?    [To    Henry.]      You,  Henry.     You 
know  when  I  mean  a  thing 


176  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Henry. 

[Calmly  and  kindly  and  rather  pompously.] 
I  believe  you  would  make  this  sacrifice,  but  I 
shall  not  let  you. 

Robin. 

[Taken  aback  by  Henry's  superior  attitude.'] 
Oh — indeed !  [Derisively.]  You  won't  let  me. 
We'll  see  about  that. 

Henry. 
It's  totally  unnecessary.     Take  the  advice  of 
a  man  of  the  world ;  I'm  younger  than  you,  I 
know — but  you  see — after  all — you  are  only  a 

writer [Robin  turns  to  him  quickly  as 

if  to  retort]     I  don't  mean  to  be  offensive 

Robin. 
I'm  sure  you  don't,  Henry ;  but  if  I  did  hap- 
pen to  want  the  advice  of  a  man  of  the  world 
— I  should  never  think  of  going  to  a  thick- 
headed soldier. 

Isabella. 
[Indignantly  when  Henry  is  called  a  thick- 
headed soldier. ~\     Oh ! 

Henry. 
[Coming  to  Isabella  and  speaking  indul- 
gently of  Robin.]    Never  mind,   dear.     The 
poor  old  fellow  is  so  upset. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  1 77 

Lady  Cottrell. 
[Reassuring  Henry  and  Isabella.]    He'll 
come  to  his  senses  directly. 

Henry. 
I  hope  so.     The  trouble  with  him  is — he 
doesn't  know  life.     He  lives  in  a  world  of  his 
own — a  world  of  romantic  books  where  they 
indulge  in  these  heroic  sacrifices. 

Isabella. 
[To  Eobin.]    You  see,  Eobin ;  even  if  Louise 
did  go  and  spread  this  story,  nobody  would  be 
likely  to  believe  her,  so  it  wouldn't  do  Miss 
Heseltine  much  harm. 

Henry. 
We  shall  all  do  what  we  can  to  protect  Miss 
Heseltine. 

Lady  Cottrell. 
/  will  befriend  the  girl.     I  will  go  to  her 
now. 

Robin. 
[Coming  quickly  towardsLABY  Cottrell.] 
No.  [Rises. 

Lady  Cottrell. 

Where  does  she  live  ? 

Eobin. 
I  shan't  tell  you. 


178  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Lady  Cottrell. 
Maggie  knows. 

Robin. 
Lady  Cottrell !    I  canH  let  you  go  to  Miss 
Heseltine.     You'll  talk  her  round.     She'd  pack 
up  her  little  box  and  go  away  without  a  word. 

Lady  Cottrell. 
But  I'm  going  to  ask  her  to  stay.  To  let 
every  one  see  that  there  isn't  a  word  of  truth 
in  Miss  Parker's  story — I  shall  ask  Miss  Hesel- 
tine as  a  personal  favour  to  me — to  remain  here 
after  your  marriage. 

ROBIN. 

Impossible. 

Lady  Cottrell. 
Not  at  all.  Maggie  is  a  sensible  girl.  She 
knows  that  every  literary  man  is  closeted  for 
hours  daily  with  a  typist.  She  won't  be  jealous 
of  Miss  Heseltine.  I'll  soon  put  everything  all 
right.     You  shall  have  them  both. 

{Exit  Lady  Cottrell. 

Robin. 
[Desperately.]     I  don't  want  Maggie. 

Henry. 
Why? 


A  SINGLE  MAN  179 

ROBIN. 

She's  too  young. 

Isabella. 
Three  weeks  ago  you  were  all  for  youth. 

Bobin. 
I  know  I  was,  but  I've  had  enough  of  it. 
Maggie  is  just  as  sweet  and  pretty  as  she  was 
three  weeks  ago,  but  now  that  I've  got  to 
know  her  better — I  can't  see  anything  m  her 
at  all. 

[Henry  and  Isabella  both  look  ex- 
tremely shocked. 

Isabella. 
If  he  really  feels  that  way  about  her. 

Henry. 

[Smiles  reassuringly  at  Isabella.]  He 
doesn't.  I  know  exactly  how  he  feels.  [He 
approaches  Robin  and  says  kindly^  You  have 
got  what  we  call  in  my  regiment  "  Bridegroom's 
Funk."  We  all  get  it  as  the  wedding-day  ap- 
proaches. I'd  have  given  anything  to  get  out 
of  marrying  Isabella  when  it  came  to  the  last 
week. 

Isabella. 
[Indignantly '.]     Oh — oh ! 

[She  bursts  into  tears  and  hurries  towards 
the  window. 


l8o  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Henry. 
[  Very  much  distressed,  follows  Isabella.] 
Isabella !    Listen !    I  only  meant 

Isabella. 
[  Wailing  as  she  goes  out.]     You  don't  love 
me.  {Exit  Isabella. 

Henry. 
Isabella !  [Exit  Henry. 

Kobin. 
Idiots ! 

[Enter  Miss  Heseltine.    She  is  with- 
out her  hat. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Pausing  on  the  threshold.]     I  didn't  know 
whether  to  come  as  usual  this  morning  or  not. 

Kobin. 
I'm  so  glad  you  came.     Now  at  last  we  can 
talk  sense.     Shut  the  door,  please.     [Miss  Hes- 
eltine shuts  the  door  and  meets  him.]     She 
told. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  knew  she  would. 

Kobin. 
They  won't  believe  her. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  l8l 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Who  won't? 

KOBIN. 

Lady  Cottrell  and  Henry  and  Isabella.  They 
won't  believe  me  either  when  I  say  that  I  want 
to  break  my  engagement  and  marry  you. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Has  Maggie  been  told  ? 

Kobin. 
Not  yet.  She  won't  believe  it  when  she  is, 
and  even  if  she  does,  they'll  all  be  at  her,  telling 
her  I  don't  mean  what  I  say  and  urge  her  not 
to  let  me  off.  I  don't  know  what  to  do.  They 
won't  any  of  them  believe  anything.  It  would 
be  awfully  funny  if  it  wasn't  us. 

[He  paces  up  and  down. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  never  thought  of  them  taking  it  this  way. 
It  simplifies  it  for  us  very  much. 

Kobin. 
[Not  comprehending.]     Simplifies  it  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
If  they  none  of  them  believe  there's  been 
anything  between  us. 


1 82  A  SINGLE  MAN 

ROBIN. 

It  leaves  me  more  than  ever  engaged  to 
Maggie. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  don't  want  to  make  trouble. 

Robin. 
[Anxiously.]     Oh,  I  say,  you  don't  feel  dif- 
ferently about  me  this  morning,  do  you  ? 

[He  holds  her  hand. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[It  is  evident  that  she  loves  him  more  than 
ever.]  After  what  you  said  to  me  last  night  ? 
No.  [  With  determination.']  But  I  don't  think 
it  right  or  reasonable  that  I  should  come  be- 
tween you  and  not  only  Maggie,  but  your 
family  and  friends. 

Robin. 
[Grimly.]     I've  got  you  all  against  me  now. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
What  could  I  bring  you  for  all  that  you 
would  lose  ?    I've  got  no  arts  to  hold  you  with, 
nor  beauty.     I  could  only  love  you  and  work 
for  you.     That  isn't  always  enough. 

Robin. 
There's  every  reason  why  you  and  I  should 
marry.    Let  alone  the  great  reason.    Leaving 


A   SINGLE  MAN  1 83 

love  out  of  the  question  it's  the  only  sensible 
thing  to  do.  We  suit  each  other.  We  have 
mutual  interests  and  ideas.  The  same  things 
make  us  laugh.  Besides  which,  we've  got  ac- 
customed. I  feel  no  strangeness  in  your  com- 
pany, none  of  that  wearisome  effort  to  be  a  kind 
of  person  that  I'm  nothing  like.  With  you  I 
could  live  my  life,  I  could  do  my  work,  I 
could  be  myself.  Whereas  with  Maggie — poor 
Maggie !  It  isn't  her  fault  she's  so  tiresome. 
It's  the  fault  of  her  youth. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Troubled.]     I  can't  but  remember  that  it 
was  I  who  sounded  her  for  you — here  in  this 
room — three  weeks  ago  to-day. 

EOBIN. 

I  don't  think  she  cares  for  me  much.     I  don't 
think  it's  in  her  to  care  for  any  one  much. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
That's  what  we  want  to  think. 

Eobin. 
[With  determination.']  If  I  were  to  marry 
Maggie  now,  I  should  do  her  a  very  great 
wrong.  [Miss  Heseltine  shakes  her  head.] 
Oh,  yes  I  should.  If  I  take  her  away  from  the 
home  where  she's  happy,  playing  with  her 
brothers  and  her  friends,  bring  her  here  and 


1 84  A  SINGLE  MAN 

don't  love  her — can't  love  her — it  would  be 
cruel.  I  must  tell  her  everything.  I'll  go  and 
see  her  now  at  once. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Anxiously.']     You  will  tell  her,  I  suppose, 
and  then  let  her  choose. 

Robin. 
[Pausing.]     Choose  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Choose  whether  she  will  give  you  up  or  not. 

Robin. 
Suppose  she  chooses  not  to  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Simply.]     You  would  have  done  the  right 
thing. 

Robin. 
[Doubtfully.]  Yes.  [After  a  moment's  re- 
flection^] But  I  should  still  be  saddled  with 
Maggie.  I  can't  pass  the  rest  of  my  days  with 
a  young  woman  who  has  no  idea  of  life  beyond 
extracting  the  utmost  merriment  out  of  each 
moment.  I  shall  tell  her  just  as  kindly  and  as 
gently  as  I  can,  but [Enter  Maggie. 

Maggie. 
Good-morning. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  1 85 

KOBIN. 

Good-morning,  Maggie. 

Maggie. 
I  thought  perhaps  you'd  be  by  yourself. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Am  I  in  the  way  ? 

Kobin. 
[To  Maggie.]    Do  you  want  to  see  me 
alone  ? 

Maggie. 
What  I  really  wanted  was  to  see  her  first 
and  you  after. 

Eobin. 
Shall  I  leave  you  here  with  Miss  Heseltine  ? 

Maggie. 

Let  me  think.  [She  considers  a  moment  while 
they  watch  her.']  No  ;  on  second  thoughts,  I'll 
take  you  both  together.  I  think  I  should  feel 
more  courageous.  And  I  shall  only  have  to  go 
over  the  ground  twice  if  I  don't.  [To  Miss 
Heseltine.]  You  are  in  the  secret  because,  if 
you  remember,  you  sounded  me  about  him. 


1 86  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Miss  Heseltine. 
I  haven't  forgotten. 

Maggie. 
[Addressing  them  both.']  Would  you  mind 
seating  yourselves?  [Maggie  watches  them 
seat  themselves  first  then  she  speaks  very  amiably, 
addressing  Robin.]  I  don't  think  you  are 
suited  to  me.  I  like  you  very  much.  You  are 
every  bit  as  nice  as  you  were  three  weeks  ago, 
but  now  that  I've  got  to  know  you  better,  I 
find  that  you  depress  me.  [Robin  and  Miss 
Heseltine  look  at  each  other  trying  very  hard 
not  to  smile.']  When  you  play  with  us,  for  in- 
stance, I  always  feel  you  are  trying  to  be 
another  kind  of  person  from  the  one  you  really 
are,  and  that  you  aren't  thoroughly  enjoying 
yourself,  and  then  I  can't  enjoy  myself  either. 
It  isn't  your  fault.  It's  the  fault  of  your  age. 
I  don't  mean  to  say  you  are  old,  but  you  are 
not  quite  this  generation,  are  you  ? 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Protesting.]     Oh ! 

[Robin  and  Maggie  look  towards  Miss 
Heseltine. 

Robin. 
[Smiling  at  Miss  Heseltine  as  he  says.] 
There  are  always  two  points  of  view. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  187 

Maggie. 
[  To  Miss  Heseltine.]    It's  no  use  half  say- 
ing it  or  he  won't  catch  my  meaning. 

Kobin. 
I  catch  your  meaning  all  right. 

Miss  Heseltine. 

[To  herself  in  an  undertone.]     He  is  this 
generation. 

Maggie. 
[To  Bobin.]  It  was  yesterday  it  was  borne 
in  upon  me  so  powerfully  the  immense  differ- 
ence in  our  ages.  You  mustn't  think  I  haven't 
thought  about  this  very  seriously.  I  sat  up 
quite  late  last  night,  talking  it  all  over  with 
Bertha.  We  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it 
isn't  fair  to  ask  a  girl  of  my  age  to  marry  a 
man  who  has  had  his  day. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
[Springing  up   amd  saymg  mdigncmiby  to 
Maggie.]    Oh,  no! 

Maggie. 
[To  Miss  Heseltine.]    See  here!     You 
were  asked  to  stay  in  the  room  to  give  me 
your  moral  support 


1 88  A   SINGLE  MAN 

Miss  Heseltine. 

I  know  I  was — but  when  I  hear  you  talk  like 
that  about  him — even  a  secretary  has  her 
feelings. 

Maggie. 

[Kindly  to  Miss  Heseltine.]  I  mean  to 
say — he  has  lived  and  I  haven't.  The  world 
isn't  all  new  and  exciting  to  him  the  way  it  is 
to  me.  I  want  parties  and  people  all  the  time. 
He's  had  all  that  and  wants  to  settle  down. 
There's  the  difference  between  us. 

Eobin. 
You've  hit  the  nail  on  the  head,  Maggie. 

Maggie. 
[Going  to  Kobin.]     There's  something  else  I 
must  tell  you — something  you  may  not  like. 

Kobin. 
[Smiling  hopefully.']     You've  fallen  in  love 
with  a  boy  of  your  own  age. 

Maggie. 
Oh,  no. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
A  man  of  your  own  age. 

Maggie. 
Nothing  of  that  sort.    It's  this.    There  used 


A  SINGLE  MAN  1 89 

to  be  some  notion  that  it  wasn't  honourable  for 
a  girl  to  break  off  her  engagement  unless  the 
man  were  willing  to  set  her  free. 

Kobin. 
[Pretending  to  Maggie  to  be  seriously  im- 
pressed.]   Indeed. 

Maggie. 
People  don't  hold  that  notion  now. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
You  don't  say  so ! 

Maggie. 
[To  Eobin.]     I  thought  you  might  be  old- 
fashioned  and  want  to  hold  me  to  my  promise. 

Kobin. 
[Airily.']     Oh,  dear  me,  no — you'll  find  me 
quite  up-to-date  on  that  point. 

Maggie. 
[Looking  at    Bobin    with   admiration."]     I 
must  say  you  are  taking  it  splendidly. 

Eobin. 
[Trying  to  speak  gravely.]     I  am  doing  my 
best  to  disguise  my  feelings. 

[Miter  Louise.  She  wears  the  travelling 
clothes  in  which  she  arrived  in  the  first 
act,  and  seems  rather  hysterical. 


190  A  SINGLE  MAN 

Louise. 
[Crying.']  I'm  not  one  to  make  trouble,  but 
I  think  you  ought  to  know  that  I  am  being 
turned  out  of  the  house  for  telling  the  truth. 
[Addressing  Robin.]  I  owe  it  to  myself  to 
justify  myself  before  the  girl  you  are  engaged 
to.     [Looking  at  Maggie.]    Last  night 

Robin. 
[Interrupting  her.]     No,  Miss  Parker,  no.     I 
can't  allow  that.    Besides,  Miss  Cottrell  and 
I  are  no  longer  engaged. 

Louise. 
[Greatly  surprised.]     What? 

Robin. 
She  has  broken  it  off. 

Louise. 

Good  gracious ! 

Maggie. 

[Going  to  Robin,  says  kindly.]  I  do  hope 
you'll  be  able  to  find  some  one  to  console  your- 
self with — [with  a  meaning  look  and  smile 
towards  Louise]  some  older  person ;  some  one 
who  wants  to  get  married  as  much  as  you  do. 
[  Whispering.]  We've  all  noticed  how  fond  she 
is  of  you.  [She  goes  to  Miss  Heseltine  and 
takes  her  by  the  arm.]  Come,  let  us  leave  them 
together. 


A  SINGLE  MAN  191 

Miss  Heseltine. 
No. 

[Louise  glides  slowly  towards  Robin 
with  her  most  seductive  smile.  He 
steps  hack  a  step  or  two,  very  much 
embarrassed,  as  she  approaches.  Enter 
Isabella  and  Henby. 

Isabella. 
[Speaking  as  she  enters."]     Louise  ! 

Louise. 
[Annoyed  at    being    interrupted,   says  irri- 
tably.]    What  is  it? 

Isabella. 
Your  cab  is  here. 

Louise. 
You  may  send  it  away  again. 

[Smiling  and  unfastening  her  coat  as 
if  she  were  going  to  stay. 

Maggie. 
[To  Robin.]     I'm  sure  you'll  be  happy  to- 
gether.    I  must  be  off  home  to  tell  mother 
what  I've  done.  [Exit  Maggie. 

Robin. 
[Bracing  himself]     Miss  Parker. 

Louise. 
[Smiling  up  at  him.]     Louise. 


192  A  SINGLE  MAN 

ROBIN. 

The  next  time  you  tell  the  truth  please  tell 
the  whole  of  it,  and  add  that  Miss  Heseltine 
and  I  are  going  to  be  married.  [ To  Miss  Hes- 
eltine.] I  suppose  we  are  going  to  get  mar- 
ried, aren't  we  ?  [Taking  her  hands. 

Miss  Heseltine. 
Yes,  please. 

Louise. 
{Rising  majestically  and  giving  her  hand  to 
Kobin.]     Good-bye,  Mr.  Worthington. 

Robin. 
Good-bye,  Miss  Parker.     It  has  been  such  a 
pleasure  having  you  here. 

Louise. 
Stop  the  cab ! 

[Heney  and  Isabella  bolt  out  of  the 
door.  Louise  stalks  out  majestically. 
Miss  Heseltine  sits  down  at  her 
desk  and  begins  writing  on  the  type- 
writer. Robin  comes  behind  her,  gently 
draws  her  hands  from  the  machine^ 
and  embraces  her. 


THE  END  OF  THE  PLAY 


&  W.  Pnero's  mm 

$me,  50  Cctttg  <£acf> 


THF  MAfiTSTWATF    Farce  in  Three  Acts.    Twelve  males,  four 
111E  iUAUlJlRAlL    females<    costumes,  modern;  scenery,  all 

interior.    Plays  two  hours  and  a  half. 

THE  NOTORIOUS  MRS.  EBBSMITH  ™  ,^~. 

Costumes,  modern ;  scenery,  all  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

THF  PRftFI  Hi  ATF   pla,y in  Four  Act8,  Seven  males,  five  females . 
111B  rAUlMUAlJU    Scenery>  tliree  interiors,  rather  elaborate  ; 

costumes,  modern.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  £££ 

three  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening 


THP  5PH ftftl  MIQTflP W    Farce  in  Three  Acts.  Nine  males,  seven 
IflC  aUlUUUnldlHEJd    females.  Costumes, modern;  scenery, 


THE  SECOND  MRS.  TANQUERAY  ^IVrLtt.  Ecg" 

tumes,  modern ;  scenery,  three  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

^WFFT  T  A  VFNflFP  Comedy  in  Three  Acts.  Seven  males,  four 
3WEC1  IfATUWLA  females#  Scene,  a  single  interior;  costumes, 
modern.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

THF  TIWFS  Comedv  in  Four  Acts.  Six  males,  seven  females. 
1 111}  1  U1E  J  Scene,  a  single  interior ;  costumes,  modern.  Plays  a 
full  evening. 

THF  WFATCFR  SFX  Comedy  in  Three  Acts.  Eight  males,  eight 
111G  WEimEll  JEA  females  Costumes,  modern ;  scenery,  two 
interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

A  WIFE  WITHOUT  A  SMILE  r^iti 

modern ;  scene,  a  single  interior.    Plays  a  full  evening. 


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AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 

W1LL  BE  ASSESSED   r™"™**^  J™£ 
Tm<5   BOOK  ON   THE   DATE   DUE.    THE  PENAL.it 

wiLI  Increase  to  so  cents  on  the  fourth 

d£     AND TOH.OO     ON    THE    SEVENTH     DAY 
OVERDUE.  


tton 


AUG    F    1937 


s,  foui 
ry,va- 


.    Cos- 
rening. 


LD  21-100m-8,*34 


Gaylord  Bros. 

Makers 
Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

PAT.  JAN.  21,  1908 


m  31593 


r 


